Fusion
by BadVoodoo
Summary: Harry discovers that his family history isn't quite as straightforward as he had thought when his grandfathers past catches up with him. Response to lady stormrider's challenge on the Caer Azkaban Yahoo group.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Lost and Found

It was hot.

That's what Harry remembered about his last day of freedom as he sat in his cell staring at the dull grey ceiling.

It had been hot; he'd been in his room having just gotten out of the shower when he felt a sting in his back. He turned just quickly enough to see a pair of black clad men, their faces hidden by balaclavas, before the taser dart sent 50,000 volts of electricity through his body. He hit the ground before he'd registered that he'd fallen. A black hood was shoved over his head and his wrists and ankles bound. The next time he saw light was when he fell into his cell.

Despite the Muggle technology employed in his capture and containment, it had taken several visits from his captors before he was sure that they were not Death Eaters. He'd given up trying to figure out who his captors were, having only been able to glean that the majority of them were not British and that he was bait for a trap.

Overall, his confinement wasn't so different from being at the Dursleys. Aside from his two meals a day, none of the guards on duty, rotating out in shifts of what he guessed was 6 hours, acknowledge him with more than a glance. He honestly wouldn't have really minded the situation much if they'd given him some clothes to wear and something to read to pass the time.

With the guard rotation to help him keep track of time, Harry realized that days in captivity had turned into weeks before something finally changed.

"Hello Mr. Potter."

The voice startled Harry out of his bored stupor as much for it's breaking of the oppressive silence as for someone addressing him by name. Harry looked up at the man who had entered his cell.

"I'd heard you were a quiet one," the man continued casually, "My name is Dr. Adam Harkness, and I am the director here." Harry continued to stare at the man and not knowing how to respond simply stayed silent.

Dr. Harkness sighed, "To the point then, do you know why he wouldn't have come for you?"

"Who?" Harry asked suspiciously. He didn't think that the Muggles would use him as bait for Voldemort or Dumbledore for that matter, but it was possible.

"The Wolverine," Harkness replied. Seeing no recognition in the boys' eyes, he added, "Logan, James Howlett, Weapon X," still nothing, "Your grandfather?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Harry answered honestly, "as far as I know, my only living relatives are Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley."

Dr. Harkness was the one who looked surprised at this for a moment before schooling his features. "Interesting; allow me to be the bearer of news then," he said condescendingly, "your grandfather is alive. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin, however, are not." Not giving Harry's stricken look any consideration the Dr. continued, "I wonder…" He trailed off, smirking as he left the cell.

Shortly after Harkness had left a pair of guards opened the door to Harry's cell, cuffed him and led him to a lab where they strapped him to a table.

"What are you doing? What's going on?" Harry asked as a man in a lab coat approached with a large syringe. He didn't get an answer before man jabbed the needle into his arm. Harry felt like ice was suddenly running through his veins and he lost control of his body. He felt his head loll to one side, but no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to move or even blink.

Time seemed to stand still as the man in the lab coat inserted an IV into one of his arms and placed electrodes all over his body. The man would occasionally talk into a small black handheld box, though never loud enough for Harry to understand what he was saying.

Apparently satisfied with his preparations, the man in the lab coat moved the table he was strapped to under a large machine with a bright light on it. He ran the machine over Harry's form before retreating from view. Several minutes later, he returned and did it again. This happened three more times with the man becoming more agitated each time.

With a disgusted snarl, the man ordered the two guards to move Harry to a different machine. This one had a long tube with a movable table that slid in and out of it. The man ran him through the tests several times becoming more and more frustrated with each successive test. The process repeated itself over half a dozen more machines and tables and the man in the lab coat getting angrier about each test.

With disgust, the man finally seemed to give up on the machines. He efficiently removed the IV from Harry before wrapping a rubber hose around his upper arm and slapping at his vein until it raised enough for him to slip a needle into it. He drew what seemed to Harry to be a huge amount of blood before removing the needle and bandaging the wound. He took a knife and cut off a bit of skin, trimmed some hair, cut his fingernails, and gathered a bit of every possible fluid or substance from Harry's body that he could, no matter how uncomfortable or disgusting extracting it was. When he finished, the guards led Harry back to his cell where he finally lost consciousness.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"So what have you found out Dr. Invers?" Dr. Harkness questioned.

The man in the lab coat, Jonas Invers, scowled in return, "Almost nothing sir," he answered, "X-Ray, CT, Full Body, MRI, FMRI, Photo acoustic, Gamma…I ran every damn scan I could think of and to the last one the results were…"

"I've seen them," Harkness interrupted, "I didn't ask what you didn't learn, I asked what you had."

"Yes sir," Invers replied, "with the scans telling me nothing, I gathered samples of every tissue and fluid I could. Results indicate an unknown field of energy output produced by the subjects' body. It seems that he absorbs certain energies and converts them internally. At this point, I suspected him to be a mutant and ran genetic sequencing on the subject. It came back positive for the X-gene, though his powers are dormant for the time being, so I still have no explanation for the unknown energy."

"Interesting," Harkness replied, "I believe I may be able to explain part of it."

"Sir," Invers asked not knowing his superior had run any tests of his own.

"I spoke with him, you know," Harkness began. Invers nodded that he was aware of the fact, "I recognize mental tampering when I see it done so blatantly. The boy was too passive for it to be natural so I had Mornings look him over. It seems somebody tampered with his mind. I suspect that whoever they are, they're responsible for the test results."

"Do you think they knew we were coming?" Invers asked.

"No Jonas, I think we are merely benefiting from somebody else's prep work," Harkness answered.

"So what do we do now?"

"Now," Harkness began to smirk nastily, "now we see if we can bring out his inner mutie and find out if it's useful."

"And as to his original purpose?" Invers pressed.

"Tell me Jonas, do you still have doubts about Dr. Haley?"

-~-~-~-~-

Summer "Sunny" Morning was a dour middle-aged woman completely ill suited to her given name, she was also a mutant on the payroll of Project X. She had no love for her kind, she wished only for order, otherwise, she wanted to be left alone. When she'd been discovered as a mutant by the project, Dr. Harkness had been surprised at her offer to help control the mutant problem. It was little work for the head of the project to redirect her zeal towards using mutants instead of eliminating them. That's how she found herself sitting across from him.

"Always a pleasure Sunny," Harkness greeted.

"Can it Adam!" The dour woman snapped, "What do you want?"

"Charming as ever I see," Harkness taunted, before becoming serious, "The boy is a mutant, but his X-gene is inactive, I need to know how to bring it out of him."

"Torture," Morning replied simply.

"Now, now Sunny," Harkness chided, "you know as well as I do that there are many different types of tortures. I need to know what will best work on the boy. I'm looking for a speedy resolution."

Morning closed her eyes and concentrated, she followed the strands of energy that led to the boys' emotions, prodding him with waves of different feelings. For fifteen minutes, the pair sat in silence as she tested him. Abruptly the woman's eyes snapped open, "We need to make him feel helpless, out of control." She paused, her eyes flickering closed again for a scant moment before continuing in an uncharacteristically uncertain voice, "I'll have to break the compulsion on him for us to get anywhere. After that, I suggest confinement in a small area, sensory depravation and sleep depravation enforced by moderate electric shock. I estimate 72 to 96 hours to break naturally. If I reinforce the feelings, maybe 48 hours."

"That long?" Harkness asked in surprise.

"He's strong," she explained, "much stronger than I expected. With pain, I'm not sure we could break him at all."

Nodding to himself, Harkness changed his focus, "How long will it take you to break the compulsions?" She knew he'd noticed her uncertainty, she'd have known even were she not a fully functional empathy; she expected it of him.

"I don't know sir," she answered; she'd never felt anything so alien before. If she was truthful with herself, she knew the only way she could break them was to overwhelm them with brute force and that it would be very unpleasant for both her and the subject. This was fortunate for the project, but it was not something she was looking forward to.

"You'd better get started then," Harkness ordered.

Recognizing a dismissal when she heard one, Sunny Morning stood and walked from the room.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Several hundred miles away in an office decorated in rich, dark wood and leather furniture Charles Xavier checked his e-mail.

_Charles Xavier._

_My name is Dr. Jackie Haley; I'm a researcher at a government facility related to Department K. I have little time, as I believe they are already on to me and I aim to disappear after I send this. _

_For the last several years, I have been involved in the abduction, torture, experimentation, and exploitation of mutants for military purposes. _

_I am contacting you not out of any love for mutants, but because they have crossed the line, kidnapping and killing normal humans in their pursuit of some misguided revenge for the escape of The Wolverine._

_In 1958, before he entered the Weapon X program, James Howlett AKA Wolverine fathered a daughter. In 1981 his daughter died, but she left a son, his only living blood kin. One month ago a black-ops team tracked down Wolverine's grandson and kidnapped him, killing his only other relatives in the process. _

_They had assumed that Wolverine or you had been aware of the boy and would come for him. During his incarceration, the subject showed that he had an inactive X-gene, and efforts to force him into the Weapon X project were set into motion._

_Should you come for him, they will be expecting you. I now wash my hands of the situation, what happens to the boy will not be on my conscience. _

_I have attached the internal files related to the boy's ancestry and a map indicating the location of the facility where he's being held. I know you can use your abilities to verify the information I have provided._

_Attachment:_

_-~-~-~-~-~-~-_

Two days later in the Dr. Xavier's office, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, and the man called Wolverine gather together to discuss the email.

"You've all read the letter that brought us here," Xavier began, "we've all made inquiries as to the legitimacy of the information contained within."

"Get to the point," Wolverine growled impatiently. If there was a blood relative of his being tortured simply because of a previously unknown relationship to him, they needed to rescue him immediately. He had no desire to sit and think and plan what how to respond.

"Yes, of course," Xavier demurred, "Jean."

"Professor, the email address was a dummy account set up on the same day you received the message. I tracked the IP address where it originated to an internet café in Ottawa." Jean explained, "About half an hour after you received the message a Dr. Jackie Haley was murdered leaving that same internet café."

"Are there any leads in the case," Scott asked.

"No," Jean answered, "Dr. Haley was shot with a .50 caliber from several hundred yards away. When the police found the shooters nest, the rifle and casing were still there. There were no serial numbers on the gun and tracing the bullet casing led to a lost shipment of munitions from a couple of years ago."

Wolverine snorted, "Lost, as in taken by some black ops team for this exact reason."

"Thank you Jean, Ororo, what were you able to find out about the child?" Professor Xavier asked, preventing the conversation from going off on a tangent.

"Jean confirmed for me that the blood samples looked like a legitimate match to Wolverine and a close relative," Storm started, "the included family tree looks legitimate. It traces back to a woman named Charlotte Evans who in 1958 had a child named Lily. The birth certificate lists the father as James Howlett, Logan's supposed real name. About a month after Lily was born, Charlotte died of pneumonia. Lily was shipped from Ontario, Canada to her Aunt Rose in Surrey, England where she was raised."

The platinum haired mutant took a breath and continued, "In 1977 Lily married a man named James Potter, though there is very little information on him aside from his name. On July 31st 1980, Harry James Potter was born. His parents were supposedly killed in a car crash on Halloween 1981, but there is no record of any crash or police report, only an obituary. Their son Harry was raised by Lily's cousin Petunia and her Husband Vernon."

She looked up from the papers she was reading from, "Petunia, Vernon and their son Vernon died in a suspicious car crash 2 months ago; their nephew Harry is listed as missing. Few records about Harry exist at all; his birth certificate doesn't list where he was born, he has no immunization or doctor's records, he has no post primary school records. The police report lists several neighbors as saying he was a troubled youth who attended a boarding school called St. Brutus School for Incurably Criminal Boys ten months a year; the only problem is that that institution that incidentally doesn't exist."

"Do you think he's legitimately in trouble?" The Professor asked.

"I do, his story reads like a textbook example of an abused mutant," Storm answered.

"Is he really related to Wolverine," Scott questioned.

"I don't know," Storm replied, "he could be, but even if he isn't, it doesn't matter. At the very least, he needs our help."

"I concur," the Professor interjected, "I was able to use Cerebro to track him down and verify that he does exist and is in trouble."

"What are we waiting for then," Wolverine barked, standing and heading for the door.

"Logan," Xavier called, "there's something not right about this whole situation."

"Make it quick, Professor," he countered.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Harry slowly opened his eyes, blinking owlishly only to jump, startled as a pair of murky brown eyes bored into his own from less than six inches away.

"You're awake then," Sunny snapped, "let's get this over with then." Before Harry could even get his bearings, she grabbed his head, digging her nails into his temples.

Harry initially felt the pain of the woman's nails digging into his head, but this soon gave way to an odd sense of fuzziness settle over him, the feeling of having to sneeze and being unable to. The feeling began to build, a pressure pressing against the insides of his skull until with a metaphorical pop, his head cleared. For one moment, he felt clearheaded, only to have a rush of emotion crash down upon him. Helplessness, sadness, loneliness, anger, and despair crashed down on him; tears prickled at his eyes as he felt months of repressed emotion all at once.

Sunny Morning released the boy's head in surprise. It had been easy to break the compulsions on him, too easy in fact. Roughly grabbing his head again, she probed him again, pressing deeper into his already battered psyche. It took her a moment to find it, but there was something else influencing him, this influence was stronger and more subtle.

She knew the boy was useless to them if they couldn't break him or if he was under someone else's control, so she gathered herself and with a mighty push threw everything she had at the boys mind. "Oh shit," she whispered as she realized that whatever had a hold of him was the most powerful connection she'd ever encountered.

-~-~-~-

"Sir, we have a problem," the panicked tones of one of his guards announced through his two-way radio abruptly announced.

Adam Harkness snapped up his own radio and replied "on my way." The director stood quickly and ran towards the cell. Whatever he thought of his guards' competence, he knew they didn't panic without good reason.

When he arrived at the cell, he didn't need to ask what the problem was; Sunny's nails had dug into the boy's temples and two streams of blood ran down the side of his face. More importantly, however, was that Sunny's already pale face was sickly white and her eyes rolled back in her head.

"What happened," Harkness snapped.

"She grabbed him once and did her mojo," the guard explained, "then she did it again, only the second time she muttered something before she started shaking and getting all pale."

"Grand," Harkness muttered to himself, "just what I need, another brain damaged Howlett."

"Should I separate them sir?" The guard questioned.

"No," Harkness replied, "There's nothing we can do, leave them alone."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

On the other side of the Atlantic, Voldemort looked up from the chessboard he sat before and frowned. Inexplicably something was pressing in on his mental defenses. With only a glance at his servant and host, he determined that the man had nothing to do with the attack.

"Lucius," he hissed, "I have need of your ritual chamber, make it read for use immediately."

Malfoy, who had been contemplating his next move, looked up at his master, startled by his master's sudden demand. Seeing a foreboding look on the pale face of the Dark Lord he nodded once and Apparated away to the entrance of the ritual chamber.

Arriving with a sharp crack, he quickly pulled a blade from a sheath on his hip and with nary a sound, ran it across his left palm, opening a deep cut. He waited a moment for the blood to pool in his hand then smeared it across the runes on the stone doorway before him. When each rune was covered in his blood, they flashed with white light and the door opened of its own accord. Entering the dark chamber, Lucius went to each of the eight columns in the room and repeated the process of activating the blood runes.

"Leave me," the high-pitched voice of the Dark Lord demanded the moment the aristocratic blond finished smearing his blood across the last of the columns.

"Do you require anything else my lord," Malfoy questioned.

"Ensure I am not interrupted," Voldemort stated.

Malfoy bowed briefly and stepped from the room, sealing the door behind him. He drew his wand and finally healed the deep gash in his hand; that done, he stood, wand drawn before the door awaiting his master.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Simultaneously three minds pushed every bit of energy they had into breaking the unknown connection between the minds of Harry Potter and Voldemort, and with the weight of so much combined power the link fractured and collapsed with a spectacular release of eldritch energy.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"That can't be good," the guard that stood watch on Sunny and the prisoner said as a visible nimbus of light surrounded the pair.

Harkness looked up, brought out of thought by the announcement, just in time to see the odd greenish glow before it exploded outwards throwing him bodily into the wall behind him. All lights in the complex went out, the ones above him in the cell exploding from the force of the energy, raining down glass from the ceiling.

A moment of silence followed before the emergency chemical lights ignited. Seconds later a blaring alarm sounded and red lights began to flash throughout the compound.

Harkness slowly got to his feet, groaning in pain from the impact, "What the fuck was that!" he yelled to nobody in particular. When there was no response to his outburst, he took a careful look around at the chaos that surrounded him.

The guard, obviously caught in the blast, flew through the cell door and lay obviously dead, impaled through the chest on one of the now mangled bars. He staggered towards Sunny and the boy who were both on the floor in a crumpled heap, each immobile and covered with shards of glass and numerous cuts. Checking Sunny first, he easily found her pulse and noted that she was breathing easily; next, he checked the boy, who also seemed to be merely unconscious.

The sound of boots slamming into the linoleum floors of the hallways announced several guards running towards his position. The unique sound of their automatic weapons rubbing against their body armor told Harkness that they were fully armed and expecting trouble. Looking around again, he couldn't really blame them; it looked like a bomb had gone off.

When the first guard entered into his field of vision, Harkness called out to him, "stand down!"

"Identify yourself," the guard growled in response, aiming his rifle center mass.

"Dr. Adam Harkness," the Director replied, "stand down and lower your weapon." The guard took a moment to verify the man was who he claimed to be before slowly lowering his weapon. "Cancel the alarm and get some medics in here, now!"

The chaos of the moment passed, and the guards holstered their weapons and began the tedious project of cleaning up the mess. Meanwhile, Harkness turned his attention to the unconscious form of Harry who was suddenly far more interesting of a puzzle.

As he contemplated the young man, he noticed a small spark around one of the numerous cuts the boy had sustained. Taking a step closer and crouching, he could see that Harry's skin was dancing with small arcs of electricity and that they seemed concentrated around his injuries. More surprisingly, they somehow seemed to be knitting his skin back together, healing his wounds. His observation was interrupted as a group of medics entered and separated the boy from Morning.

"She's flat-lining," a frantic call came from one of the medics kneeling next to Sunny, "Paddles, now!" the medic ordered.

Harkness was confused, the woman's pulse had been strong only a moment before, her visible injuries didn't seem severe, and she hadn't been moved at all. He glanced suspiciously at the boy, his brow crinkling in thought.

"Charging," one of the medics called and the unmistakable sound of a heart defibrillator building a charge filled the air, "clear," the medic called, paddles pressed against the pale flesh of Sunny Morning. The buzz associated with the discharge of the capacitors sounded, Sunny's body barely jerked, and a bolt of electricity shot from the paddles into the unconscious prisoner laying a few feet away.

The medics looked at one another then to Harkness in confusion. The director simply shrugged, as he too was confused. Training taking over the medic called "charging," once again, "clear." Again the buzz of electricity filled the air, again Sunny's body barely jerked and again a bolt of electricity shot across the room into Harry.

"Get him out of here!" the medic monitoring Mornings' vital signs called in exasperation, prompting a pair of guards to grab Harry by the wrists and ankles and pull him from the room.

Harkness was torn between following the enigma that was his prisoner and seeing as to the fate of his subordinate. The latter won out as Harkness stood against the wall as for a third time the medic shocked the woman's body, "I've got a pulse."

It took the medics only a short time to stabilize Morning and arrange to transport her to the on-site medical bay. When he was sure that his colleague was out of danger, relatively speaking, he left the crowded, half-destroyed cell to check on the prisoner.

Harry lay still flat on his back against the far wall where the guards had deposited him. Harkness approached and took a cursory look over him searching for any injuries. He was only marginally surprised that all of the wounds the boy had received healed. Perhaps, he considered, whatever had happened in the cell had triggered his mutation.

A light groan accompanied the slight fluttering of eyelids, as Harry slowly began to wake up. The first thing he noticed was that he was cold; this wasn't new considering he'd been nude for as long as he'd been a prisoner. A moment later, he realized he wasn't lying on his cot, but rather on the floor in the hall outside of his cell.

Thinking back, the last thing he remembered was the pale woman digging her nails into his skull, an indescribable struggle, pain radiating from his scar throughout his body, the feeling of something indescribable breaking, a rush of power, and then nothing until he woke a moment ago.

Slowly sitting up, Harry was surprised to see the destruction around him. Men in camouflage, rifles hung over their shoulders clearing debris from the cell he normally inhabited. He slowly climbed unsteadily to his feet, wobbling slightly; he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall waiting for the room to stop spinning.

It was then that he noticed something was definitely different. Even with his eyes closed, he knew where all of the guards were, he knew that Harkness was standing behind him, watching him. He could feel them, could feel that the pale lady was in his cell and was weak, that Harkness was also injured, but not nearly as badly, that one of the guards was dead, his energy quickly draining away.

That thought startled him, he was feeling their energy, and more than that, he could feel a different, flavor was the only word that fit, of energy running through the ceiling and walls. A few of the men were carrying around something that produced a third flavor of energy, something less organic than the feeling of the people and more stagnant than that running through the building.

"Tranq him," Harkness called out seeing that the prisoner was pulling himself together. Not knowing what the boy would now be capable of, it was the safest thing to do at this point.

Before Harry could react, a dart had stuck itself into his neck. Cold began spreading through his body. Instinctively Harry reacted by trying to pull energy into himself to fight it off. The lights above him exploded, electricity arcing from the fixtures into his body. He felt warmth begin to fill him, fighting back the cold; his body began to stabilize itself below him.

"Hit him again!" Harkness demanded quickly backing away from the boy.

Another dart slammed into Harry, this time in his chest. The arcs of electricity slamming into his body increased in size. Somewhere in the building, fuses began to blow interrupting the flow of electricity. Harry stumbled as the energy he was drawing upon to fight off the ice trying to flow through his veins. He took a few steps towards the closest guard, reaching out for another source of energy to help him fight. The guard took a step back and another pair of darts slammed into him; one from the guard he was approaching and another from behind. Harry struggled to stay standing, but it was too much and he collapsed, unconscious to the floor.

"We need to contain him," Harkness ordered, "shut off the power to cell block B and move him there; full non-conductive body suits for anyone who even approaches him. All electronics are to be checked at minimum of 30 yards from the prisoner; cell phones, pagers, pace makers, I don't give a shit, it doesn't get anywhere near him."

The director pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Dr. Invers, "Jonas," he asked when the other end was answered, "I need you to review the security footage on Block A from today and figure out what happened." Harkness demanded, continuing without waiting for Dr. Invers agreement, "I also need you to figure out and implement a practical containment protocol for our new subject. You'll have the guards' reports along with the security footage to work with. I will look forward to your briefing tomorrow morning." Harkness closed the phone not bothering to wait for acknowledgement of his commands.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Albus Dumbledore sat at the head of the table in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place, headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix listening to reports on Death Eater movement and political intrigue. Despite the fact that Voldemort continued to lay low, slowly rebuilding and expanding his power base, the last two months had been difficult with the disappearance of Harry Potter.

"Albus," Molly Weasley spoke up when the last report had completed, "what news is there about Harry?"

"I've had Kingsley looking further in to the circumstances of his disappearance Molly," Dumbledore answered. Turning his gaze on the bald Auror he asked, "Have you learned anything new?"

Auror Shacklebolt stood slowly to address the group, "As you all know, on June 18th Harry disappeared with no witnesses," here he glared at Mundungus Fletcher and was joined by most of the Order in doing so. "From what little evidence we do have on that evening, Harry was home alone; the Dursley's having left to take Dudley to the hospital."

"Do we know what was wrong with Harry's cousin," Hermione Granger asked. This was the first meeting since Harry's disappearance that she and Ron had been allowed to join and she wanted to gather as much information as possible.

Kingsley shook his head, "they didn't make it to the hospital alive unfortunately," he hesitated, glancing at Dumbledore.

"What?" Hermione shouted catching the byplay, "if there's more, I want to know. I'm a Muggle born, anything you know could be important in the right context." The bald Auror scowled at her reasoning, prompting her to explain, "I'm not trying to impugn your intelligence or professionalism Mr. Shacklebolt, but as a full blood you were born and raised in the Wizarding World. Just like there are some things about magical life I may never get, there are things about Muggle life you may never get."

Kingsley grudgingly agreed with her reasoning, but again looked to Dumbledore for approval. When the headmaster nodded in return, he began, "the details I'm wary to spread aren't Muggle related, and they're speculative. There were reports of a pair of dementors in Surrey shortly before Harry's cousin fell ill; we suspect it is possible that the boy had been kissed."

Several gasps filled the room, as this information was not widely known, even within the Order. "Do you think the ministry had something to do with it," Sirius growled, the first time he'd spoken in an Order meeting since Harry's disappearance when he'd nearly murdered Mundungus Fletcher.

"We don't know for sure," Dumbledore answered, "given their smear campaign and the reports of the dementors, I suspect it's possible. Was there any further information at this time Kingsley?"

"Yes, Albus, there is some new information," Shacklebolt replied, "I managed to get my hands on the original hand written forensic reports from the first on scene after Harry's reported disappearance. The reports contradict the official ministry party line that Harry ran away. It seems there were signs of breaking and entering and a small splatter of blood on a towel, but no evidence of any magic use. The conclusion was that Harry was surprised and taken against his will, but by Muggle means."

"Thank you Kingsley," Dumbledore stated his face a mix of curiosity and concern. "Has anyone else discovered anything pertaining to Harry's disappearance or whereabouts?"

"We've charmed a hand for him for the Weasley clock, but it's constantly pointing at lost," Arthur offered, "at the very least we know he's alive and not in mortal peril."

"That is at least some good news, and a good idea. Even if it doesn't tell us where he is, we know that he is not in great danger," Dumbledore replied.

"I've scried for him with crystal, glass, stone, mirror, smoke, water and fire, wherever he is, it's either well warded or out of the country for me to get no result at all," Emmeline Vance proffered.

"Thank you for your efforts Emmeline," Dumbledore responded, "my efforts of divining his location have as well met with no success. The ministry, being as it is right now, is not as open to me as it once was, but I can state with certainty that Harry is neither in a ministry holding cell, safe house or Merlin forbid Azkaban."

"What about Numengard?" Remus asked.

"Definitely not," Dumbledore answered promptly, "though my efforts at home are somewhat hindered, abroad I have lost no influence. No, wherever Harry is, it is not in any magical prison or holding facility that is known to me."

"What about You-Know-Who," Ron posed with a grimace, "I mean, he's wanted Harry dead forever…"

"Not possible," Snape explained, "The Dark Lord briefly detected Potters presence in his mind earlier today, but did not recognize it as such until after the connection was closed, permanently."

Nobody else had anything to offer and soon after the meeting broke up, the members of the Order returning to work or home, a very few shooting sympathetic looks at Ron and Hermione on their way.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Harry awoke again in almost complete darkness. He was instantly aware that he now wore thick and somewhat confining clothing. Instinctively reaching out for any sources of energy, he was dismayed to find not only was there very little in close proximity, and what he could feel was dampened somehow.

Stretching before moving to stand up, the clothing he was wearing made a creaking type of a sound. Running his hands across his chest, he felt a rubbery material rather than any cloth. It didn't take him long to figure out that the clothing was essentially another facet of his confinement. Unfortunately, in the dark he couldn't figure out how to remove the confining garment.

Standing up, Harry began pacing his cell, furiously trying to think of a way out. It took only a few moment of this before he realized something else about him had changed, he now desperately wanted to fight back, to escape, to do anything to leave this prison. The reason for the change didn't matter to him, all that mattered was that he felt like himself now and he was going to do anything he could to gain his freedom.

A dim light suddenly illuminated his cell, the source coming from down the hallway. Footsteps filled the silence, casually approaching Harry. Despite the muffling affects of his the body suite he was wearing, he could feel that it was Harkness before he could see him. Harry couldn't feel if the injuries that he had previously sensed from the man had healed, though he felt like he should be able to. When the director finally came into view, he knew why; Harkness was also dressed in a rubber suit that Harry vaguely recognized as a wetsuit.

"Back to gloat," Harry jeered, "it won't do you any good, I've faced down worse than you."

"I have to admit, I was wondering if you'd be more talkative," Harkness replied.

Harry's sneer faded, "it's only a matter of time before they come for you, and when they do, they won't be happy."

"I'm counting on it," Harkness admitted confusing the young wizard. Spotting the confusion, the man laughed. "Don't look so shocked, I already told you that you're bait."

"What do you want from us," Harry demanded.

"Nothing but for your kind to dance to my tune freak," the Dr. answered, showing his true face to Harry for the first time. "It doesn't matter to me if you live or die, if they save you or not. You don't matter, what matters is money and power, and you are going to help me to get it."

"This is about money?" Harry questioned after a period of stunned silence, "that doesn't make any sense."

"On the contrary," Harkness answered, "it makes all the sense in the world to me." The man laughed and began walking away.

"When I get out of here, if I see you again, I'll kill you," Harry called after him, causing the man to pause for a moment. A smirk spread across his face before he continued on his way.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"Perimeter Breach! Perimeter Breach!" an automated voice squawked before a siren sounded startling Harry out of a restless sleep. Red lights began flashing in the hall outside his room, the emergency activating the automated defense systems, including turning on the electricity in the cellblock.

Harry felt the power surge through the circuits and jump to his feet a feral grin stretching across his face. His friends had come and while his captors were worrying about them, they wouldn't see him coming. Stretching his hands above his head, Harry called for the power, the light bulbs in his cell popped and arcs of electricity jumped from the sockets into his body slowly filling him.

"Swimwear in a prison cell? I knew Harkness was a little off, but that's just plain kinky," an unfamiliar voice sounded from just outside his cell. Harry turned towards the voice and saw a well-built man in a tight red and black body suit and a mask standing outside his cell.

"Who are you?" Harry asked suspiciously, pooling his power in case he needed to defend himself.

In response, the man drew a pistol from his hip and shot the lock on the cell door, then pulled it open. The man stepped towards Harry and looked down at him, before suddenly turning around and cussing at the wall. "Great, a bit part in a Harry Potter crossover, thanks a lot BadVodoo!"

"How do you know who I am?" Harry questioned the man.

"Deadpool," another voice, this one deep and gruff, called out.

"Yeah, yeah," the man apparently called Deadpool answered, "he's here, dressed in some kinky rubber wear, but otherwise alright."

The second man stepped into view; dressed in a black, leather body suit. He was short, about Harry's height, with a powerful build and blades, of all things, sticking out the back of his hands. The man quickly looked Harry over, his eyes lingering on Harry's for a moment longer than was strictly necessary before he growled, "Let's go."

It took Harry a moment to decide to follow them, but when the alternative was staying in the cell, it wasn't a hard one to make. As the duo who'd freed him quickly loped down the hallway before him, he took a moment to get a feel for them. Both men, he noticed, gave off a slightly different flavor of energy than any of the admittedly few others he'd been able to taste. Harry grimaced as he thought this, deciding that when he had more time, he'd need to think up a better metaphor. In addition to feeling different, they gave off more power than the others did. If Harkness and the guards were candles, these two were spotlights. Soon enough, though, the sound of gunfire from up ahead shook him out of his inner monologue.

The man called Deadpool jumped unconcerned around the corner where they'd heard the gunfire, drawing a sword from his back and called out to the guards. Harry didn't understand what the man said, however, as he noticed a two guards slumped against the far wall, blood pooled around their bodies. Reaching out for their power, he found none, confirming to himself that they were dead.

The other man roughly slammed him against the wall, "Pay attention to your surroundings and stay out of the way Bub. We didn't break in here to have you get clipped." As if to emphasize the man's point the wall just above Harry's head exploded and chunks of plaster and drywall rained down on the pair.

Harry saw the guard, rifle shouldered, aiming down the hall at them. With a thought, he summoned up some of the energy he'd absorbed minutes earlier and pushed it at the guard. A bolt of lightning shot from his hand and struck the guard. The man scream cut off abruptly as the impact from the bolt threw him bodily through the wall behind him.

"Don't think about it," the gruff man said his voice lower and softer than it had been before, "not now. When we get out of here…" he trailed off, pulling Harry behind him. The next half hour passed in terror, blood and screaming as Harry followed the two warriors through a maze of corridors. The trio finally emerged into the crisp cold air of night slipping into the darkness of the forest that surrounded the facility.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Fusion

After they had been walking through the woods for several minutes, Deadpool glanced at his bare wrist and said something about missing American Idol before disappearing in a flash of light.

The other man, who had introduced himself as Logan, merely grunted and steered Harry what seemed like miles through the wilderness to a beat up pickup truck parked on an empty roadside. Conversation between the two during the eight-hour drive to Westchester, New York was sparse, with Harry eventually falling into a light sleep. When they had arrived, Logan led him into a palatial mansion and into an ornately decorated office.

"Welcome back Logan; Hello Mr. Potter, I'm Charles Xavier," a well-dressed bald man sitting behind a large desk greeted as soon as they entered.

"Professor," Logan greeted in what must have passed for a respectful tone from him.

Harry, on the other hand, decided on a silent nod of greeting as he surveyed the assembled group. Aside from the Professor, there was a redheaded woman sitting on the arm of a leather couch, a tall, lean man with odd glasses stood next to her, his hand on her shoulder. A platinum blond almost white haired woman with mocha colored skin sat in a chair across from the redhead and, of all things, a large hairy blue creature with glasses was leaning against the desk.

The next thing Harry noticed was that every one of them exuded a slightly different type of power and in greater abundance than the guards or any of the passengers in the vehicles Harry had felt along the way.

When Harry ultimately didn't otherwise respond to his greeting, Professor Xavier continued, "I understand that you've had a terrible few months and before we get into anything else, I wish to offer you anything I can to help you to recover."

"What day is it," Harry asked. He didn't think he'd been gone for more than two weeks, maybe a month at most, but he wanted to know for sure.

"Today is the 30th of August," Xavier answered gently, "as we understand it, you were held captive for just over two months."

"August 30th," Harry repeated in disbelief, "it was June 18th when they broke in to my home and kidnapped me." Suddenly remembering what Harkness had said the first time he'd visited his cell, he asked, "My relatives, the Dursley's, are they really…"

"I'm afraid so, Harry," Xavier replied, "it appears they died in a car crash. We have received information indicating that they may have been intentionally run off the road by the same people who kidnapped you."

"But why; what did they have to do with anything?" Harry questioned.

"Their motives aren't entirely clear," Xavier explained, "our best guess is that they wanted your guardians out of the way so you could more easily be removed from the country."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, "What do you mean leave the country?"

"You were being held in Canada, Harry," Xavier responded, "You are now in Westchester, New York, in the United States."

"But…" Harry didn't really know what to say or how to reply. He slowly crossed the room; gave the redhead a long measured look and threw himself onto the other side of the leather couch.

Xavier took Harry's collapse as a sign that he needed time to work through all that he'd just learned. Turning to Logan, he asked "No problems then?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Logan answered, "Though the kid did pretty well on his own once his head was in the game; fried a guy with lightning from his hands and healed a pair of bullet wounds without any trouble."

"Bullet wounds," Harry asked, "was that what those were?"

"You let him get shot!" the redheaded woman spoke up, incensed. Turning to Harry she ordered, "You, come with me."

Something about the woman reminded him of Madam Pomfrey, who in his long experience always ultimately got her way. With a shrug, Harry stood and followed the woman from the room.

The redhead led Harry out of the room, down a hall and into an elevator. As they stood and waited for the lift to reach their desired level, the woman introduced herself, "I'm sorry for being rude, I'm Dr. Jean Grey. I work with the Professor as the on site physician as well as teaching computer science and biology."

"This is a school then?" Harry asked making the connection between Charles Xavier and the title of Professor.

"Yes, we're a school where mutants are free to learn to control their powers and get a proper education without any stigma associated with being different," Jean explained with a smile, "Welcome to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning."

Harry wrinkled his brow in concentration as he thought of what little he knew about mutants. He knew that Vernon was a member of a group called the Friends of Humanity and routinely grouped mutants in with wizards and witches and anything that wasn't normal in his view. "So, I'm a mutant then."

That statement or was it a question, caught Jean off guard. Then the words of the email Charles had received flashed through her mind, '_the subject showed that he had an inactive X-gene, and efforts to force him into the Weapon X project were set into motion.' _ It had never occurred to her that he'd been unaware.

"I guess that makes sense," he continued ignoring Dr. Grey's lack of response. Turning to her with an expectant look he asked, "What makes me a mutant and what can I do?"

That was a question Jean could answer, "Do you know what DNA and genes are?" she asked.

"I know the basics, what they taught us in school," Harry answered.

"Good, the basics are all you need," Jean replied with a smile, "what makes you a mutant is that you have a gene that most people don't have. One small difference and someone has wings or blue fur or is telepathic. Science generally refers to this as the X-gene." Looking at Harry to make sure he understood, she continued, "nobody knows exactly why or how the gene alters people in the ways it does, so it's impossible to predict exactly what you will be able to do without some trial and error."

Harry nodded then inquired, "are you a mutant?"

"I am," she acknowledged, "I'm telekinetic, which means I can move things with my mind and telepathic."

"Was everybody…" Harry began only to be cut off.

"Yes. Professor Xavier is a very powerful telepath. Scott, the man with the glasses, can shoot force beams from his eyes. Hank is well, covered in blue fur, as well as having impressive agility and strength. Ororo can control the weather, and Logan, well, he's…"

"Got metal claws, heightened senses, and can heal from almost anything," Harry interrupted. He smiled at the redheaded doctor, "I've seen him in action."

Jean smiled back and the twosome lapsed into a more comfortable silence. The doors to the lift finally opened revealing a long corridor with metallic walls and gunmetal grey floors. It reminded Harry uncomfortably of the prison he'd only just escaped. "I wasn't really shot, you know."

"What?" Jean questioned, "But Logan said…"

"He wanted one or both of us out of the room," Harry answered the unasked question, "I figured I owed him for getting me out of there." Seeing a look from the young woman that clearly asked for further explanation, he continued, "I was only really in danger once; a guard that Logan and Deadpool missed took a couple of shots at us, but missed by quite a bit." He paused as the emotions of the moment bubbled up in him again, and he suddenly realized what Logan had been getting at, "I killed him."

Understanding bloomed in Jean's eyes as well. She gently placed her arm around his shoulders, leading him to some unknown destination, "do you want to talk about it," she asked softly.

Harry grimaced, he appreciated the offer, but he didn't know her from his captors, "it's not the first time," he admitted gruffly, "and I doubt it will be the last."

Jean nodded knowing he'd said all that he was going to say about it for the moment if her experience with Logan was anything to go by. When the blood tests came back and confirmed that they were indeed grandfather and grandchild, she wouldn't be the least surprised; despite their radically different appearances, something about them screamed family. Glancing at Harry's unruly mop of hair, she amended her previous impression; perhaps they weren't even as different as she'd first thought.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

After Harry and Jean had left for the medical lab Scott, Hank and Ororo departed as each had classes to prepare for, leaving Logan and Professor Xavier alone.

As soon as they were alone Logan began, "He's seen combat before Chuck. Most people after going through all the shit he's been through wouldn't sleep right for weeks. The kid slept soundly for half the drive."

"He could have been exhausted by his ordeal," Xavier replied playing devils advocate.

"It's more than just that," Wolverine shot back, "the way he handled himself, he didn't freeze up. Some guard took a potshot at us and the kid turned and wasted him. A kid shouldn't be able to make that call, let alone react to a threat like he did."

The Professor frowned not liking the implications of Harry being capable of such actions; it suggested that the young man had a lot of baggage to deal with. That wasn't anything new to him, many young mutants had rough childhoods, but it didn't make it any easier or pleasant to deal with.

"We'll help him Logan," Xavier said comfortingly, "if he is, as I suspect, your grandson, he'll need your help and guidance the most."

Logan shifted uncomfortably; he wasn't a person that the kids could depend on. He was a guy who taught them to fight, who showed them how to survive and who fought and killed in the darkness so that their lives didn't have to be as bleak.

"He's family, Logan." The Professor stated simply, drawing the man from his thoughts.

'Maybe,' Logan thought, 'that's all that that needs to be said.'

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Jean and Harry had reached the medical lab and, after getting his permission, she began doing a full workup both to figure out what his mutation might be and to get a baseline on his heath. The first thing she'd done was to take his vital signs; his temperature heart rate and blood pressure had all been high, but not approaching anything dangerous.

"Alright, lose the wetsuit and lay down," Jean ordered distractedly as she began calibrating the CT machine. Coming out from behind the computer bank that ran the machine, she found Harry lying on the table, completely nude. Not expecting to see that, she quickly turned away and covered her eyes in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she stated, "I didn't realize you didn't have any other clothing."

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting up and glancing down at his body almost surprised at his lack of shame, "well, I spent most of my time in captivity naked, I guess I got used to it."

"Well, you don't need to be naked here," Jean replied, "Let me just get you some clothes then." She crossed the room and opened a drawer, "what's your size? Do you think a medium or large would be better?"

"Large I guess," Harry answered.

"You'll have to go without underwear for now," Jean offered, walking backwards holding out a pair of grey, drawstring sweat pants and a white t-shirt.

"I never wore them anyhow," Harry replied taking the clothes and slipping them on, "All I had was my cousin's hand me downs and, well, he was quite a bit bigger around the middle than that hairy blue guy. Hank wasn't it?"

Once he was dressed, Jean ran Harry through a battery of tests and after each successive one grew more and more excited like Ollivander trying to match a wand to a tricky customer.

After a particularly excited squeak from the redheaded woman Harry asked, "what, exactly, is so exciting about my tests?"

"It's amazing," Jean answered with enthusiasm, "your body naturally produces some sort of energy I've never seen or heard about that messes with the circuitry of the machines!"

"And that's a good thing?" Harry questioned.

"Well, not particularly, but it's a very interesting challenge," the woman replied, "but I think I've locked in on how to get around it now."

"Does this have to do with my mutation," he inquired even as he considered the alternate possibility of magic interacting with electronics.

Jean crinkled her brow in thought, "I would assume so, unless you know of some reason why it wouldn't be." Harry looked away for just a moment and it was all that the woman needed to know he did know something. "I'm telepathic Harry, but it doesn't take a mind reader to know that you're hiding something."

Sighing, Harry responded, "I do have an idea of what else it could be, but I'm not sure."

"Harry," the woman began only to be cut off.

"It's complicated," he interrupted, "can we leave it at that right now?"

"Alright," she agreed reluctantly. She realized that it was one of the young man's secrets and it would take time for him to come to trust her, especially after everything he'd recently experienced.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Professor Xavier was sitting behind his desk in his office discussing his student's progress in the physical science with Hank McCoy, occasionally known as Beast when he sensed Jean Grey approaching. Just as the redhead entered the room, he asked his colleague to excuse him for a little while.

"Of course Professor," Beast answered, standing, "Jean, lovely to see you."

"Hello Hank," Jean greeted, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said as the man stepped past her leaving the room.

"Nothing pressing, I assure you," the man answered with a smile.

"Thank you," she called to him as the large mutant closed the door behind him.

"Hello Jean," the Professor greeted, "I assume you have come about our new resident."

"Yes," the woman answered simply, "he's as much of an enigma as his grandfather."

"So the blood test shows they are family," Xavier asked.

"Yes Professor," she replied.

"I'd thought as much. What else were you able to learn Jean?" Xavier questioned.

"It's not so much what I learned, as what I didn't," the woman complained, "his body produces some sort of energy that messes with the electronics of most of the machines downstairs."

Charles furrowed his brow, "Really? His mutation…"

"No, or at least I don't think so, Professor," she broke in. "He's hiding something and it has to do with this. He only realized he's a mutant a few minutes before we started the tests."

"Interesting," Xavier intoned.

"What are you thinking sir?" She asked.

"Nothing, really," The Professor explained, "I had theorized that he'd been raised, at least in part, in some sort of mutant collective. If that were the case, however, he couldn't have thrown a bolt of lightning and not realize immediately that he was a mutant."

"He can throw lightning bolts?" Jean asked, "Does he produce the power from his body and use it as a controlled projectile? That could explain why he was so difficult to scan."

"From what Logan described, he threw his hands towards the guard shooting at them and a bolt of lightning shot out," the Professor described. "Mr. Wilson sent a report about the incursion at my request and while he didn't see Harry throwing lightning, he did state that when he approached the cell he witnessed him absorbing electricity from the shattered light fixture. He also said that when he made himself known, Mr. Potter seemed to think that despite being unarmed, he would be able to defend himself."

Jean contemplated the new information trying to build a complete picture of the young man, even as she continued her report. "I was eventually able to augment the CT scanner enough to do a successful scan," she laughed ruefully, "After all the trouble I had getting it to work, it didn't show anything abnormal."

"Harry's blood work, on the other hand is another story and another mystery," she continued, "unsurprisingly he has an active X-gene; what was surprising is that, at first glance, he has two of them."

"Two?" Xavier repeated, "How is that possible?"

"You are aware, I assume, of Klinefelter's syndrome?" Jean asked.

"An extra chromosome," the Professor said in understanding.

Jean nodded, "At first glance, it looked like Harry had two X-gene's, but the second one is different; it appeared to be a mutated X-gene."

"Appeared? Then you've discovered what it is?" Xavier queried in fascination.

"Actually, I believe I do. I think that the X-gene is actually a mutation of this particular gene," she detailed. "I think he has both the gene that is the origin of mutation and the X-gene."

"More questions and few answers; an enigma indeed," Xavier offered. "We should present him with what we know and see if he will be willing to tell us what he knows about his secondary mutation."

"If he has any," Jean added. Xavier nodded, acknowledging that he may not have any answers for them. "I'd also like your permission to run DNA tests on the other students."

"Why, may I inquire," Charles replied.

"Well, as you know, we don't normally run DNA testing for the students because we already know they're mutants," the Professor nodded, "I'd like to test to see if any of the others have this secondary mutation gene."

"Try to use existing blood samples when possible," Xavier consented, "I don't want to cause any unnecessary panic."

"Of course," Jean agreed.

"Now as to our conversation with Mr. Potter, I've requested Logan join us and Mr. Rasputin will be escorting Harry here as well," the Professor informed Jean, "would you like me to summon Scott as well?"

-~-~-~-~-~-~

"Are you Harry?" a deep voice questioned, startling Harry from his pursuit of half-heartedly watching a movie about a singing cartoon lion and half-heartedly taking a quiz to find out what type of man was his dreamboat.

Turning, he saw a very large young man looking down at him in askance. "Yes," he answered simply, "and you are?"

"I'm sorry, my name is Piotr," the tall man answered holding out his hand for Harry to shake.

Harry stood, "good to meet you Piotr," he replied. As his palm made contact with Piotr's, the larger of the pair jerked hard, and fell to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Before his eyes, some sort of metallic coating rippled across the big man's skin, covering him from head to toe. "Help, I need help," Harry yelled, not knowing what else to do.

-~-~-~-~-~

Professor Xavier's pleasant smile dropped from his face at the same instant, "Jean, something's wrong," he began.

"I felt it too, Professor," the woman replied, already on her feet and running towards where she had felt Piotr and Harry. Professor Xavier followed more slowly but no less urgently behind her.

Jean arrived in the TV room where she'd left Harry and found him kneeling near the downed form of Colossus in his organic metal form. Harry's hands were hovering over Piotr's chest, as if he wanted to help, but was afraid to touch him.

Sparks of electricity were dancing across his skin when he noticed Jean enter the room; looking up at her, he yelled, "Help him!"

"What happened?" she asked already kneeling next to Colossus, her fingers pressing against his jugular testing for a pulse.

"I don't know," Harry answered standing up and backing away, "we shook hands and he just fell."

Finding a pulse, Jean breathed a sigh of relief, with a thought she levitated the unconscious boy and began heading towards the medical lab.

"Will he be okay?" Harry asked in concern.

"He will," she shot back over her shoulder with a reassuring smile, "Piotr's a tough kid and I'm a good doctor." Despite the situation, Harry found himself impressed. He'd seen people levitate things many times, but never with so little effort or concentration.

Professor Xavier, the man Harry recognized from Jeans' description as Scott and Logan arrived just as she was leaving. The look on the bald man's face as his eyes followed Jean and Piotr from the room before locking on Harry's reminded him of Dumbledore after they discovered Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Mad Eye Moody. It was a mix of shock, curiosity, and tightly leashed power.

"We should talk," he said simply, waving a hand in front of him indicating Harry should follow him.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The Professor directed Harry back to the office in which they'd originally met, inviting him to sit down as he moved himself behind his desk. It was the first time he'd actually noticed that the man was in a wheelchair; he projected such a presence that it was a surprisingly easy thing to miss.

Harry sat in the chair he'd seen previously occupied by Ororo with Logan sinking into the couch across from him and Scott taking a position just behind the Professors right shoulder.

"Can you tell us what happened, Mr. Potter," Charles questioned his voice even and curious.

"Yes sir," Harry began, "err, no sir," he corrected himself. "I can tell you what happened, but I don't know what…"

"I understand Mr. Potter," Xavier interrupted, "please just tell us what you can. We'll figure it out together."

"Okay, umm, I was sitting watching TV and Piotr startled me, asking who I was," Harry explained, "I introduced myself and when we shook hands, he suddenly jerked and dropped to the floor, then some weird metal started covering his body. You guys showed up almost immediately after that."

The Professor nodded and asked, "Are you aware that there were sparks of what looked like electricity jumping across your skin?"

"No sir," Harry replied with a bit of confusion in his voice.

"Would you be willing to help me test my hypothesis of what happened?" the man asked.

"Yes sir," Harry answered.

"Logan, if you would shake Mr. Potters' hand," Xavier prompted.

Wolverine looked at the Professor and shrugged, reaching out his hand. Harry for his part grasped the man's hand in his own, only for Logan to jerk in a now familiar manner and pull away, his hair suddenly standing on end.

"Was that necessary," he growled at the Professor.

"Who else would you have suggested participate in that test," Xavier shot back, causing the man to curse under his breath.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"You shocked the shit out of me," Logan answered, he turned to Charles, "you knew that was going to happen," he accused.

"I suspected as much," the Professor replied. The man turned to Harry and explained, "I believe, Mr. Potter, that with your mutation being newly awakened that it is uncontrolled. This isn't uncommon and I believe that with a little effort we will be able to teach you that control. In the interim, I would request you wear some non-conductive gloves so as to prevent this from happening again."

"That's why they had you in that wetsuit," Logan commented.

"I guess," Harry said, "but the suit, it dampened, I guess, my ability to feel the energy around me."

"You can feel the energy around you?" Scott questioned.

"In a way; the best way I've been able to describe it is I taste it. The electricity in the walls, the batteries in your wheelchair," he hesitated, "even people."

"That seems like it would be a handy talent to possess," Charles commented, "I, myself, can feel the people around me and always know where they are. Does your ability allow you to do so?"

"Yes," Harry answered, "I'm pretty sure I could navigate most places with my eyes closed as even the furniture registers as a sort of dead zone."

"Do mutants feel any different?" Logan inquired bluntly.

"I noticed that you and Deadpool both put out a different flavor of energy right off. Your energies are very similar, but not quite the same. I noticed that you give off a lot more energy than the guards and people in the cars that we passed too," Harry explained, "Professor Xavier, and the others who were here when we arrived all had their own, distinct flavors, and all gave off more energy than the Muggles."

"Muggles, what's that," Xavier answered.

"Shit," Harry cursed quietly, "umm, it means normal people; people without powers."

"I take it this has something to do with what you weren't willing to tell Jean," the Professor stated.

"Yes sir," Harry replied.

"I won't to push you for answers, Mr. Potter," Xavier declared, "you are not a prisoner, nor should you feel obligated to share your secrets with us. I do hope, however, that we'll be able to eventually earn your trust."

"Trust is only part of it, sir," Harry explained, "there are, well, laws governing what I can and can't say to anyone who's not a relative or already knows."

"Curiouser and curiouser," Xavier quoted with slight amusement as he imagined his protégé's reaction to that tidbit of information. "I would like let you know that one of the tests Jean completed indicated that you and Logan are related; grandfather and grandchild."

Harry looked at the Professor in disbelief, "No offense, but I'd find that easier to believe if you said he was my father, except I'm the spitting image of my father."

"Looks can be deceiving, Mr. Potter," Xavier explained, "It's likely that Logan is older than I am."

Harry looked to the man who had rescued him in askance, "I have no idea kid, but I trust Jeanie," the man said as he was still processing the bomb Charles had just dropped on him. "But like Chuck said, I'm older than I look."

Harry's look changed from confusion to thoughtful and he finally spoke, "I've heard of stranger things, I guess. I mean, I knew of a man who was over 600 years old."

"Another secret," Xavier questioned, intrigued by the mystery surrounding their newest guest.

Harry shrugged and nodded, "sorry."

At that moment, Jean and Piotr entered the room, the largest of the pair seemingly unaffected by the earlier trauma.

"You okay," Harry asked as Jean took a seat next to him on the couch and Piotr carried another chair from a table that sat on the other side of the room.

"I am fine now," Piotr answered neutrally.

"It seems," Professor Xavier interjected, "that Mr. Potter's newly awakened powers are not yet fully under his control. We will be working with him on that."

"You did not mean to injure me," Piotr questioned, though Harry could see that he had already accepted Xavier's explanation.

"No," Harry replied, "I didn't even know I could do that."

"It's okay then, though forgive me if we do not shake on it," Colossus replied with a smile.

"If you are amenable to the situation, Piotr, I had intended to ask if you would mind sharing your room with Mr. Potter while he is here," the Professor stated.

"That would be fine Professor," Piotr answered.

"Very well," the Professor stated, "I believe we should let Mr. Potter settle in; if you would show him to your room Piotr?"

"Of course Professor," the young man replied.

As Harry and Piotr walked from the room, Harry quietly ask his roommate, "are you really alright?

Once she sensed the two were well outside of earshot, Jean turned to her mentor, "Professor?"

"He's not ready Jean," the man answered the unasked question, "the last thing he needs is to see us as kinder, gentler guards. A gilded cage is still a cage."

"If you think that's best," Dr. Grey replied uncertainly.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"I am well," Piotr replied to Harry's question as he led him towards the room they would share, "you just caught me off guard is all; it isn't the first time."

"That's not the first time you've been electrocuted by a handshake?" Harry questioned in disbelief.

The larger of the pair laughed, "It's not the first time a handshake knocked me off my feet."

"Really?" Harry inquired.

"I'll introduce you to Rogue," Piotr answered with a laugh.

"What kind of a name is Rogue?" Harry responded.

"Mutants, as a show of solidarity for our developing culture, take on a name related to their power," Piotr explained, "For instance, I can change my body into an organic metal," as he said this, the same metallic substance as Harry had seen before spread across his body and he seemed to grow even larger. "They call me Colossus."

"That's why they called Logan, Wolverine?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, and Mr. Summers is Cyclops, Ms. Munroe is Storm, Mr. McCoy is Beast; almost all of us have taken on a second identity," Colossus revealed, leading Harry into a bedroom with two beds. "This is our room; the side with all my stuff in it is mine. You're free to do whatever you like with your half."

"Well, I'm not sure how long I'm going to be here, but thanks," Harry replied.

"You just got here," Colossus stated.

"What did they tell you about how I came here?" Harry asked.

"Nothing, actually;" Colossus answered honestly.

"Oh, well, I was kidnapped about two months ago and held in some sort of facility that experiments on mutants. Logan and Deadpool broke me out last night," Harry retorted.

"Well, shit," the tallest of the pair exclaimed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "Anyhow, I have a life to go back to in England once I figure out this whole mutant thing."

"Figure out this whole mutant thing?" Colossus repeated.

"Hey, I just barely found out I'm a mutant," Harry explained, "I really don't even know what all I can do."

Piotr was quiet for a while as the twosome stood awkwardly in their shared room, "So, you met Deadpool, that's pretty cool," he finally stated changing the subject.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Harry and Piotr were sitting in the dining hall when classes let out for lunch. Suddenly, what had been a large empty room was quickly filling with students. The pair soon found themselves surrounded by what Harry assumed to be Piotr's friends.

"Who's this, Colossus?" a young woman with elbow length gloves asked motioning to Harry as she sat down with the quickly expanding group around them.

"This is Harry," Piotr answered, "he just got here today."

"I'm Rogue," the girl said, extending her glove-clad hand to Harry.

"I'm Harry," he replied adjusting the black leather gloves Jean had brought to him a few minutes prior, before taking her hand in his own. Glancing down, she noticed his glove and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm still getting a handle of my powers," Harry explained, glancing at Colossus.

The large young man laughed, and explained, "What he means is he'll electrocute you if he touches you."

"Like static electricity," another girl, this one with a British accent, pink hair and fairy wings of all things asked.

"No, like it stopped my heart," Colossus answered seriously, causing the entire group to drop into silence.

"It was an accident," Harry defended.

"Are you alright big guy," a blue eyed, blond boy asked, glancing from Harry to Piotr and back.

"Yes; no harm, no foul," he answered, "it's like touching Rogue, he couldn't help it." The group seemed to accept the explanation and broke into their individual conversations again.

"What happens if somebody touches you?" Harry asked Rogue.

"I absorb other people's power," she answered quietly; "I can't control it."

"I'm sorry," Harry said thinking about his own lack of physical comfort in his life, "that's got to be hard."

Rogue smiled back at him, "so…introductions." She said redirecting the conversation, "Like I said, I'm Rogue, this is Pixie," she pointed to the pink haired girl who waved at him, "that's Siryn," she nodded at a porcelain skinned redhead, who smiled back.

"I'm Iceman," the blond interrupted, extending his hand to shake Harry's, "good to meet you."

"Pyro," a dark haired teen grunted, seemingly more interested in his lunch than the conversation.

"I'm Sam," a blond boy with a big smile introduced himself; "you can call me Cannonball though."

"What part of England are you from?" a girl who hadn't introduced herself asked. Harry placed her accent as upper crust London. A glance from Rogue prompted her to add, "Oh, I'm Psylocke."

"Surrey," he answered, "Little Whinging to be specific." The girl nodded and returned to her meal, as disinterested now as they teen called Pyro.

"Where's Kitty," Colossus asked, eliciting knowing looks from Iceman and Rogue.

"She's helping Wolverine with something," Rogue answered, laughing when Colossus frowned.

"So what kind of name is Hairy?" Pyro asked, deciding to join the conversation after all. "I mean I can see that for Dr. McCoy, but you look pretty normal."

"It's Harry, not hairy like hair," Harry tried to explain.

"What's your real name," Pyro demanded.

"Cool it John," Colossus said in a warning tone.

"What, I just want to know the kids name," he replied mockingly.

"I don't have one yet," Harry answered, understanding that Colossus had somewhat prepared him for this, "I just found out I was a mutant today."

"Really," Iceman asked, interested. "What can you do, we'll help you figure out your codename."

Harry smiled, taking an instant liking to the enthusiastic blond, "Well, aside from a shocking handshake," Colossus snorted, "I've thrown a lightning bolt and I can feel the energy in everything. I don't know if there's more."

"So, something with an electrical theme then," Iceman stated, "come on guys."

"Volt, Watt, Bolt, Amp, Current," Sam began.

"Electron, Charge, Battery, Circuit," Pixie added with a giggle.

"Hmm, Conductor, Voltage, Capacitance, Electrode, Static, Shock," Colossus continued the game.

"Force, Wave, Socket, Plug," Rogue chimed in.

When nobody else spoke up, Iceman carried on, "Ground, AC/DC, Capacitor, Transformer; umm…I can't think of anything else."

"So Harry, do any of those sound good?" Pixie asked.

"A couple of them sound interesting, but I'm not sure they're me," Harry announced.

"The only other thing I can think of that has to do with electricity is Fuse," Rogue replied. "Maybe we'll have to do some research."

"Wait a minute," Harry stated.

"Fuse?" Iceman questioned, "I guess that could be okay," he said uncertainly.

"What? No," Harry smiled; it was perfect in his mind. He was a mutant and he was a wizard, a blend of two different completely different worlds, "Fusion."

Pixie grinned, "I like it…It's good to meet you Fusion."

Harry smiled back, they weren't Ron and Hermione and this wasn't Hogwarts, but for the first time since parting from his friends at Kings Cross, a sense of normalcy slowly settled over him.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

When lunch ended, the group Harry had eaten with including Colossus departed for their afternoon classes leaving Harry alone and bored in what they'd called the game room. Once again, he found himself splitting his attention between an episode of The Young and the Restless and glancing through weight lifting secrets in an issue of FHM.

Harry felt Logan enter the room, though straining all of his other senses; he couldn't detect the man otherwise until he was within arms reach. "So I hear we're calling you Fusion now."

"I guess," Harry replied, turning around to face the man, "should I call you Wolverine?"

Logan grunted and said, "Whichever you want."

"So, I guess we should talk," Harry stated.

"Listen," Logan began suddenly, "I don't know you, I didn't know Charlotte Evans, and I don't know James Howlett." The gruff man scowled, explaining, "That was another man; another lifetime."

"That sucks," Harry responded succinctly when it became apparent that Logan wasn't in a hurry to continue.

"I'm not sure what you expect from me," Wolverine admitted, "I'm not exactly the parental sort or anything."

"I'm not expecting much," Harry answered, then realizing that could be taken the wrong way added, "I mean, my relatives weren't really the parental sort so much as the asshole sort."

Logan's gaze grew sharper as he seemed to run his eyes over Harry looking for signs of abuse, oblivious, Harry continued unwittingly allaying the man's fears. "They were never abusive; well not physically, not really. I was swatted a couple of times, but mostly they just made it clear they wanted nothing to do with me."

"So where does that leave us?" The man questioned and Harry had to wonder at the absurdity of his life as he recognized the parallels between his situation with Sirius and with Logan.

"I don't know," Harry said honestly, "I guess it depends on what you think the blood tie between us means. Are we family or are we acquaintances connected by genetics and chance?"

"Family," Logan answered with a growl, surprising himself with such a resolute declaration.

Harry nodded, pleased, "Family then," he repeated. "You probably have some questions about me and my life and I know that the Professor and Dr. Grey do, but…"

"I have my own secrets," Logan interrupted, "Chuck and Jeanie can wait."

"Thanks," Harry replied gratefully. "So should I call you Gramps then?"

The man extended a metal claw in a crude gesture in response causing Harry to laugh. "They wanna do some tests tomorrow," Logan began eliciting a groan from the young wizard. Ignoring the protest, he continued, "to figure out the limits of your powers. When you learn the limits, your instincts will give us a direction towards helping you learn to control them."

Feeling their brief conversation was at a good stopping place, Wolverine rose from the couch he'd sat down on saying, "rest up, tomorrows going to be exhausting." As the man walked from the room he called over his shoulder, "If I'm going to admit being related to you; you need stop watching that kind of pansy shit," he gestured to the screen where some blond was melodramatically pounding on a door, crying to be let in, "it's embarrassing."

Before Harry could respond to his taunting, the man was gone, his laughter echoing through the room.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The next morning found Harry standing in a large open room with Logan, while Professor X looked on from an observation bay halfway up one of the walls. "Alright Mr. Potter," Charles voice echoed over an intercom system, "Mr. Wilson said he saw what he thought was you absorbing electricity; let's start with that."

Harry turned to Logan, a question on his lips when the man said "Deadpool," causing him to nod.

"Alright Professor," the young mutant called out.

"First, I'd like to see if you can call electricity from the outlets and such in the room," the Professor explained.

Harry reached out, feeling for the power sources in the room and finding several. He called for the power, willing it to flow into him. A bolt of electricity sprang from a wall outlet into his chest; another followed a few seconds later and then a third after that.

Without the rubber suit, it was far easier than it had been in his cell, but he felt it was still too slow. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, throwing his entire will into pulling the power into himself. He felt warmth spread through his body almost instantly. Opening his eyes, he saw several arcs of electricity as thick as his arms pouring into his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Logan, who'd retreated to a far corner to avoid electrocution.

"That's enough for now Mr. Potter," the tinny voice of the Professor rang out over the light buzzing sound of the electric current running into his body. Easing his call for the power, the arcs almost immediately disappeared with a thundering crack. Looking down, Harry cussed, as the clothes Jean had given him the previous day were scorched and falling apart on him.

"That was impressive," Wolverine called with approval, causing Harry to feel a small amount of pride in his new ability.

"Okay, Harry, I'd like for you to now try to pull energy from Logan," Charles voice rang through the room.

Frowning, he turned to his Grandfather, "better me in a controlled environment than to have to figure it out on the fly."

"If you're sure," the wizard asked. Logan nodded and seemed to grimace and brace himself.

Reaching out, Harry easily felt the power within the mutant before him. He gingerly tried to pull it to him as he had with the electricity, but found it to be more difficult to grasp. Trying again, he zeroed in on the feeling of Wolverine's power; again, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Calling for the man's power, he knew he had a grasp on it now, but it was resisting him.

He opened his eyes and looked at Logan, who stood there, completely unaffected and seemingly unaware of anything Harry had tried so far. Harry grabbed the energy again, holding it firmly with his will he gave a mighty mental tug and a bolt of electricity shot from the man's body into Harry.

Wolverine stood watching the kid testing his powers with trepidation. Contrary to popular opinion, he was not a big fan of pain despite his ability to weather it in ridiculous amounts. Suddenly something changed causing him to collapse to one knee. If felt like being kicked in the chest after running a marathon.

When Harry saw the man's face pale before he dropped to his knee, a pained expression on his face, he reflexively separated the power he'd just absorbed and willed it back into Logan. A bolt of electricity shot from his outstretched palm into his grandfather's chest.

"What the fuck was that?" Wolverine yelled, bounding to his feet.

"Are you alright Logan," Charles called over the intercom.

"I'm fine Chuck," he called back, "one second I feel like I went twelve rounds with a hangover, the next I feel like I drank a hundred cups of coffee."

"Mr. Potter," the Professors voice called questioningly.

"It was like a reflex," Harry replied carefully watching his only living family member, "After I took his energy, I saw he was in pain and wanted to help, so I sort of just sent it back to him."

"Fascinating," Xavier stated, "do you think you could do that at will, Mr. Potter?"

"No," Harry replied, instinctively knowing the answer, "I can only give back the energy I took in the first place. Otherwise I'm just shooting out lightning bolts."

"Perhaps in time you can learn to modulate that energy for healing purposes," Charles stated, making a note on his clipboard. "Let's try throwing lightning bolts now." Across the room, several dummies suddenly appeared as if they'd just popped into existence, "whenever you're ready."

Harry felt the power pool in his hands, his fingers tingling with suppressed energy. Throwing his arms forward, a small bolt of electricity flew across the room and slammed into one of the dummies.

"Again please, and try to put more energy into it," The Professor called.

"How much?" Harry called back.

"As much as you can, or as much as instinct directs you to," Charles replied.

"Alright," Harry replied, again pooling the energy into his hands. It took only a second for it to feel right, so he threw out his palms causing twin bolts of electricity to soar across the room, crackling and hissing until they hit and exploded their target.

"Are you easily able to control the amount energy you put into your bolts Harry," Xavier questioned.

"Yes sir," Harry answered, "I'd like to try one more thing."

"What are you going to try?" The Professor questioned, wanting to compare it to any of the tests he had planned.

"I'd like to try to send a stream of energy at the dummies, rather than a bolt," Harry explained.

"If you think you can," Xavier stated, making notes on his clipboard for the new test and results.

Taking a breath Harry faced the dummies again and threw out his hands. Arcs of electricity flew from his hands crossing the room like lightning. The main bolt struck the dummy, while minor bolts splayed out, hitting the ground, walls and dummies surrounding his target. He pushed more power into his action, and concentrated on tightening the bolt into a tight beam. Slowly, the energy complied with his will, though he was unable to control the small arcs that occasionally shot off into the surroundings. When he began to feel the power draining from him, he stopped and found himself breathing hard.

"Let's take a break to recharge, so to speak," Charles called.

Harry agreed heartily and began following Logan from the room. He was startled when, as he passed near an electric wall outlet, he reflexively called at the power contained within. He was more surprised that he felt significantly better after absorbing it for several short moments.

Harry, Logan and Professor Xavier settled at a metal table set with light refreshments in the control room that overlooked what Harry had learned was called the Danger Room.

"I must say Mr. Potter that your ability to absorb energy is quite impressive. You absorbed electricity at roughly the rate of two megawatts an hour, which is enough to run the entire school for more than a month," Charles stated.

"Wow," Harry replied impressed.

"Unfortunately, I didn't have anything set up that was capable of recording your energy output. From my observation, however, I believe that it is most likely comparable," Xavier explained.

"Your ability to absorb energy directly from Logan, without physical contact, is interesting, but I believe it to be very dangerous. I would ask that you refrain from doing so except under the direst of circumstances."

"It didn't feel right," Harry agreed.

"What do you mean," Xavier questioned.

"Morally," he clarified, "I knew it was going to hurt him. I have a feeling that if I did that to anyone who didn't have his regenerative abilities."

"You've been talking with Jeanie," Logan complained.

Harry smirked, but otherwise ignored his grandfather's interruption, "They would lose consciousness. I think if I pulled, I guess; if I pulled too hard, I think it would be deadly."

"I had considered that possibility," Charles admitted.

"And you had me do it anyway?" Harry asked, scowling at the man.

"We discussed it beforehand, Harry," Logan said, derailing his grandson's temper.

"I had not foreseen that you might be able to force energy back into him, however," the Professor said bringing the conversation quickly back on subject.

"It was his energy," Harry explained.

"Can you explain to me the feelings behind that, so we can figure out if we can replicate it?" Xavier asked. Harry furrowed his brow, trying to explain the feelings to the man but was having trouble coming up with an accurate description.

"If it would be easier and you are willing, I could look into your mind and see exactly how it felt," the Professor offered.

"No offense," Harry began, "but I don't like the idea of anyone looking into my thoughts."

"No offense taken; few people do," Xavier replied calmly, "if it helps your decision at all, I can promise you that I would not look at anything but that particular memory."

"You can trust Chuck, Harry," Logan added, "it's up to you. I don't like him tooling around in my mind either."

Harry looked at his grandfather; he trusted the man, at least more than he trusted any of the others at the school. "If Logan says I can trust you, I can trust you," Harry said decisively, "please limit it to the memories of our testing."

Charles looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. His eyelids flickered for a few seconds before his eyes refocused on Harry.

"I didn't feel a thing," Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"I am considered one of the most talented and powerful telepaths on the planet for a reason, Mr. Potter," Xavier said with a smug grin making a few more notes on his clipboard. "I noticed at the end of that memory you felt quite tired until you again absorbed some electricity. I am curious if your energy absorption can be applied to healing yourself. Would you be amenable to testing this?"

"What would the test entail," Harry countered.

"I suggest we open a shallow cut on one of your fingers, then have you absorb some electricity and see if it heals itself," Charles stated.

Harry shrugged, thinking back to when he first noticed his new abilities trying to remember if he'd had any injuries. He couldn't think of any, but didn't know if that meant he didn't have any, or if they'd healed like the Professor was suggesting, "Why not."

"Logan, if you would," Xavier asked.

In response, one of his grandfathers' metal claws slowly slid out of the back of his hand. "Careful Junior, they're sharp," the man said, holding the blade out for Harry.

"In for a penny, in for a pound," Harry muttered, reaching out and running his palm gingerly over the blade, hissing as he sliced open the palm of his left hand. "Let's hope this works," he said as blood pooled in his hand.

Not really knowing how to go about the task of healing himself, Harry decided he'd try to summon the power into his hand. Before he could, though, he noticed that his hand was tingling as if he already had. Looking down at his bleeding hand, he saw sparks dancing around the rapidly closing wound and smiled, holding it up to show Logan and the Professor.

"That answers that question," Charles stated, "did that cause you any fatigue, Mr. Potter?"

"No sir," Harry answered, picking up a napkin and wiping the blood from his hand and arm, "I didn't consciously do anything. Thinking on it, I believe that if I concentrated, I could effect the how fast I heal. I think to heal a more significant wound quickly; I would have to do so. I'm not in a hurry to find out though."

"I believe that covers all the tests I have for now, unless you believe there is something we have yet to explore," Xavier said. Harry shook his head in the negative, "as you grow in your powers, do not be surprised if you learn later that there is more to it; and please don't hesitate to come to me with any questions or concerns."

"I will Professor," Harry said, marginally surprised that he earnestly meant it.

"Good," the man said, "Jean has a number of tests that she would like to perform as mutants with a great deal of power often exhibit enhanced traits that have little to no direct tie to their primary powers; strength, reflexes, agility and senses."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: There's Always a Downside

Harry sat in the game room watching Pyro and Iceman taunting each other while playing a video game when he had the sudden, peculiar feeling of somebody trying to get his attention. He looked away from the screen at the group of teens in the room, but nobody seemed to be paying particular attention to him. Again he felt it, but this time accompanied by a vision of the Professor standing on a doorstep, knocking on a door.

Realization flooded him and with it, he heard the voice of Charles Xavier, "Would you please come to my office, Mr. Potter." Disconcerted, he nodded despite the man's inability to see him, Harry complied, getting up and heading towards the Professors office.

"You wanted to see me sir," Harry said without preamble as he entered the room.

"Yes, I did," Xavier answered, "I was trying to figure out a schedule for your training when I realized that I had not asked you what your plans were for the future."

"I'd like to return to my life in England," Harry replied quickly.

The Professor nodded, apparently having expected the response, "and what of the problem with controlling your mutation?"

"Honesty, sir, I'm still trying to adjust…so I haven't really thought it all through yet," Harry answered, "How long do you think it will take to learn to control it?"

"It's hard to say," Charles responded, "given your demonstration of control earlier today, I would venture a guess of a few weeks; a month at most. You should know, though, that as you grow into your powers, there may be further issues."

Harry grimaced, that was a lot longer than he'd hoped. The Hogwarts express would be leaving the next day which was hardly enough time for him to get home using Muggle transportation if he left right then. The idea that there could be further problems troubled him as well though he felt confident that Professor Dumbledore would be able to help him if there were.

"There are other issues we need to consider in getting you home," Xavier continued. "With your guardians' deaths, I understand that your only remaining relative is Logan."

"I have a godfather who wants to adopt me," Harry stated. "It's not that, that is to say Logan and I talked a bit and we're family, but we hardly know each other."

"So we'll need to contact your godfather then and figure out your custody situation and how to get you back to England being that you are in the country illegally," Charles stated.

"I hadn't considered that," Harry offered, "I mean, I have the money to pay for a ticket home; not with me of course, but…I suppose I could find an embassy, if there is one and…"

"That would raise questions that are not easily answered and would open my school up to scrutiny I would much rather avoid," the Professor retorted seriously.

"I don't suppose you have the resources to get me home without dealing with all of that," Harry questioned.

Xavier smiled slightly, "Being a mutant sometimes necessitates knowing the way around certain systems. I would suggest that we work on your control of your mutation and in the meantime enroll you in the appropriate courses. In the meantime, we can contact your godfather and arrange for your transportation home; I would also suggest we create a cover story as to your whereabouts."

Harry frowned, he had no way to contact anyone in the Wizarding world, and it didn't seem like Xavier would be willing to just get him to London and let him go. "There's a problem with that idea, sir."

Xavier cocked his head to the side, "how so, Mr. Potter?"

"I don't have a way to contact my godfather; he's a bit, umm, eccentric," he answered, "he doesn't have a phone and I don't know his address to send him a letter."

The Professor frowned, "surely there's somebody you can contact," he trailed off seeing Harry shaking his head, "More of your secrets, Mr. Potter?"

"This isn't exactly a picnic for me Professor," Harry replied with some heat, "I don't exactly like being helpless and reliant on people I hardly know."

"I can not help you if you won't let me," Xavier replied calmly, "I understand your desire to protect your secrets and your devotion to your ideals is to be commended."

"You can help me," Harry interrupted, "get me to London and I can take care of myself, or I can leave and find my own way back."

Xavier scowled slightly at the interruption, "as I was saying, your devotion to your ideals is commendable, but you must understand that trust goes both ways and that your knowledge of us could easily lead to our exposure." Taking a breath he continued, "That said, given your devotion to your own secrets, I trust that you will not betray ours."

"Can you get me to London," Harry asked evenly, understanding the point Xavier had made.

"Mr. Potter," the man began, "what kind of responsible adult and educator would I be if I dumped you in the middle of a city on the other side of the planet without any assurances as to your well being; let alone your education?"

"Can I go then," Harry asked, standing up.

"You are not and never were a prisoner here, Mr. Potter, you are free to leave whenever you like," Charles replied sadly, "shall I arrange for transportation to New York for you; I believe there is a British Embassy there."

Harry sat back down, conflicted as to what he should do. He realized he had no idea what to do if he followed through and went to the British Embassy; without a proper guardian, they'd probably ship him off to foster care or an orphanage; or even worse, Aunt Marge.

There was still the problem of his mutation being out of his control; he was unsure he could hide it for long enough to get back to England or what would happen to him if he couldn't. At the same time, he didn't dare break the statute of secrecy; the thought of Azkaban or even having his wand snapped terrified him. He was well and truly buggered.

"I don't know what to do Professor," he admitted in a defeated tone, "I can't get back home on my own; I can't tell you my secrets; and I have no idea how to contact anyone back home who could help me."

"Does no one you know have a phone?" Xavier asked, "even if you don't know how to contact them, I'm certain we can find a way to contact them." Harry looked lost in thought as Charles wondered if he should push the young man just a little more in the hope that he might confide in him any piece of information that could help. "Do any of your friends have phones?"

Harry's glum expression cleared, "Hermione! Her parents are dentists; they have to have a phone number."

Xavier smiled in triumph, "Do you know their names or where they live?"

The teen grimaced, "I know them as Mr. and Mrs. Granger; their daughter Hermione is one of my best friends. I know they're dentists in or around the London area; I'm afraid that's all."

"Do you know the name of their practice," Xavier questioned, hoping for something more to go off.

"Hermione told me once, but I can't remember;" Harry answered, "I know it has the name Granger in it though. Is that enough?"

"It may take some time and trial and error, but I'm sure we'll be able to get in contact with them," Charles replied, "and if we can contact them and through them your friend Hermione…" he prompted.

"She can get in contact with my godfather," Harry finished.

"While it's not an ideal solution," Charles admitted, "it's a start. In the interim, if you are amenable to it, I'd like for you to enroll in some of the classes in addition to figuring out how to control your power."

"Thank you," Harry said seriously.

"You are more than welcome, Mr. Potter," the Professor countered hoping that one day the stubborn young man might come to trust him enough to share some of his secrets.

"There is one other reason that I wished to talk to you this evening," Charles stated reluctantly, hoping the information he was about to share wouldn't damage the fragile trust that was slowly building between them.

"What is it Professor," Harry asked sensing his reluctance.

"Earlier this afternoon when you allowed me to view your memory, I became aware of some potentially disturbing information," Xavier stated.

"What did you learn," Harry asked accusingly.

"Nothing of your memories aside the one you allowed me to view," Charles soothed, "No, what I sensed was a psychic echo."

"What does that mean," Harry requested.

"It means somebody else has been in your mind;" Xavier explained, "given the eroded state of your natural defenses it seems likely somebody or more than likely multiple people has regularly invaded your mind, probably for years."

"Snape!" Harry growled, the menace in his voice sounding disturbingly similar to his grandfather.

Though he wanted to ask who this Snape was, the anger in the young man's voice deterred him, "I can help you build a defense against unwanted mental intruders," he offered instead.

Harry's eyes locked onto his own, seeming to glow with restrained power. Closing them, he took several deep breaths, visibly struggling to regain his temper. When he opened his eyes again, they looked normal once again, "Thank you, Professor, I'll consider your offer. Was there anything else we needed to discuss?"

"No Mr. Potter, have a nice evening," The Professor answered. After Harry left, Charles rearranged the teen's schedule leaving time for him to learn to defend his mind against psychic attacks.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The next morning just after Colossus had left their room, Logan pushed open the door and leaned against the doorframe, "Time to go to work," he stated.

"What?" Harry asked, pulling on jeans and a shirt the school had provided.

"Your agreement with Chuck," Wolverine explained, "got your schedule right here," he held up a sheet of paper.

Harry grabbed the paper from the man and read it aloud, "Combat, math, computers, literature, physics, biology, history and culture, mechanics and Danger Room?"

"Sounds like he set you up with a full schedule," the man said with a smirk.

"I can't take all those classes; I haven't had normal schooling since I was ten!" Harry all but shouted.

"It's not that unusual around here," Logan responded, "most of the lessons are hands on and practical. You'll get the hang of it."

"So, I guess I have Combat first," Harry said in a defeated tone, "who teaches combat?"

Logan's smirk widened, "Yer lookin' at him bub; be glad you heal quick cause my class can get a little rough." For the second time in as many days, Wolverine disappeared, his laughter lingering in the room."

Ten minutes later, Harry had tracked his grandfather's whereabouts with his newly acquired powers to a cement pad behind the school. "You're early," he called to Harry when he spotted him.

"I didn't know how long it'd take to find you," Harry answered.

"Probably better you didn't eat anyhow," Logan replied. Five minutes later the pair were joined by twelve other teens. "Warm ups," his grandfather ordered. The group headed to a small shed converted into a locker room and everyone changed into what they called a judogi.

Once changed the group had stretched and jogged two laps around the grounds, before Logan began his lesson, explaining various ways to deflect frontal attacks, how to counter attack and the pro's and con's of those counter attacks. Harry found himself enthralled by the lesson; impressed by how his grandfather turned his experiences into a comprehensive lesson.

"With Fusion joining us, we've got an odd number, so somebody gets to pair up with me for the practical," Wolverine stated and to Harry's great surprise seven of the students instantly volunteered. "Psylocke, you're with me, the rest of you break up in these pairs and practice attack and defense: Iceman and Shadowcat, Pyro and Cannonball; Sunspot and Colossus, Rogue and Pixie, Siryn and Jubilee, Fusion and Cypher; oh and Cypher, take it easy on my grandson."

If anyone was surprised by that announcement, they were too focused on what they were doing to show it. The groups paired off, leaving Harry standing next to a short, weedy looking teen half a head shorter and easily a full stone lighter than he was. It was a novel experience for Harry who was normally the smallest in his age group.

The slight teen introduced himself as Doug Ramsey led Harry towards the shed again where they put on protective pads on their feet as well as gloves and leather helmets lined with hard foam. Now properly outfitted for sparring, Wolverine had them slowly walk through the various techniques he had shown them, getting their bodies used to the movements and learning which ones were best for their size and body types.

Harry and Doug took turns on attack and defense slowly working through the movements. Where Harry needed several run-throughs to understand the motions and mechanics behind them, Doug seemed to pick them up instinctively after having seen them performed.

"Alright," Logan called interrupting their walkthroughs, "that's enough practice, let's spar. Fusion, Cypher, you're up."

"I don't know what I'm doing," Harry whispered to Cypher.

"You'll bow to Wolverine, then bow to me, then we fight," the smaller teen explained as they entered a circle made by their peers.

As Cypher had explained, Logan had them bow to him, then each other before instructing them to fight. As soon as the man stepped from the ring, Cypher lunged forward, his fist striking the side of Harry's helmet before kicking Harry's legs out from under him. A kick to the chest as he landed on his back finished the blinding flurry of attacks.

"Point, Cypher," Harry heard his grandfathers voice call out, "Get up Fusion, this is best of seven."

Harry climbed to his feet, surprised but thankful that he wasn't feeling much pain. Dropping into the fighting stance Wolverine had demonstrated, he prepared himself. Locking his eyes on opponent, he waited and again the match started. Cypher, standing across from him, didn't shoot in this time and instead began circling.

Not wanting to wait for or invite an attack, Harry led with a leg kick, which Cypher checked before following it with a punching combination that was neatly dodged. Cypher shot in, having dodged to the outside of the blows. Harry ducked the incoming fist and threw a back elbow at his attacker. Cypher grabbed the elbow and used Harry's momentum to throw him off balance before a snap kick caught him in the ribs and dropped him, winded to the ground.

"Point, Cypher," Wolverine called again while Harry climbed to his feet, "Two to zero."

Harry was getting angry; he could feel his heartbeat thrumming through his body and the sound of his rushing blood filled his ears. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and tried to focus. When Logan called for the fight to begin again, he felt, rather than saw Cypher's leg shoot forward and in that instant he regained his calm.

Concentrating on the techniques he had just learned and repeatedly practiced, Harry dropped below the kick, striking out with one of his own into the upper thigh of Cypher's planted leg. His opponent, suddenly finding himself literally without a leg to stand on crashed hard to the ground.

"Point, Fusion," Logan stated, "two to one."

Suddenly infinitely more confidant, Harry readied himself for the next round.

-~-~-~-~-

"Four to two in your first fight isn't bad," Logan said approaching Harry after the class had let out. "You made the mistake of underestimating your opponent or overestimating your skill, but you recovered a bit at the end."

"I've never really fought like that before," Harry explained, an icepack held against his now broken nose, "I was never allowed to fight back or I'd get punished."

"That's over with," Wolverine said simply, "From now on, if you're ever in a fight, I expect you to win."

Harry shook his head, "after seeing the way the others fought, I don't think I could beat any of them."

Logan slapped him in the back of the head, "that's why you practice. Any time you want, I'll work with you one on one."

"I don't want special treatment," Harry said, flashes of his life back home running through his head.

"It's not special treatment," Wolverine explained, "the offer's open to anyone, the only person who's taken me up on it so far is Cypher."

"Who's the best fighter in your class?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Logan laughed, "It don't work that way Junior, you have to take into account speed, size, strength, agility and a dozen other factors for every opponent; but for what you're asking, Cypher is the fastest. He doesn't have a lot of strength, but he uses what he has at his disposal as well as anyone in the class."

"I was afraid you'd set me up with the worst fighter," Harry stated, "well, at least until he kicked my arse."

"Cypher's good, like I said, but against somebody like Colossus, his sheer strength and size make it hard for him to get in any good shots," Logan explained, "I don't match those two up because Cypher can't take the big guy down and Colossus has trouble with Cypher's speed. Their matches last forever."

"Well, I've got some catching up to do," Harry said, "when can we set up some extra lessons?"

-~-~-~-~-~-

The rest of the day was frustrating; directly after combat, he'd had math followed by computers and Literature after lunch. While he hadn't considered himself a bad student in primary, he realized that his time at Hogwarts preparing only for life in the Wizarding world had been detrimental to his intellectual development.

While not ever having had parents' expectations to live up to, he got the distinct feeling after talking with his grandfather that the man would accept nothing less than his best effort in everything he did. That attitude and the support of the man he was ever so slowly starting to think of as family made him determined to rectify his flaw.

Harry arranged for tutoring in each of his classes, including those he hadn't yet attended. His class load doubled from four classes a day to four classes and two tutoring sessions on the weekdays with three tutoring sessions, private lessons with Logan and Danger Room practice on the weekends. The situation also forced him to reflect on just how little effort he really put into his education in the past and how much he used Hermione's hard work to get by. He vowed to himself that when he finally did get home, his new outlook would come with him.

"How was your first day at mutant high," the bubbly voice of Pixie intruded on his thoughts.

Looking up from where he'd been lost in thought; he marveled at how he felt her approaching and thus was not startled by her sudden outburst, "I think I'm in over my head," Harry answered, "It's been a few years since I last had regular classes."

"You'll catch up," She said brightly, sitting down next to him.

"You're an impossibly happy person, aren't you," he asked rhetorically causing her to giggle.

"I don't see the point in not enjoying every minute I can," she answered, "who wants to be all gloomy and brooding anyhow?"

"I do sometimes," Harry defended with a smile.

"Well, too bad; I want to talk to you right now," she retorted.

"Do I get any say in that?" Harry responded.

"You don't want to talk to me," she asked with a pout.

"I didn't say that," Harry stated, "so, what do you want to talk about?"

Her pout evaporated from her face as if it had never been there, "I wanted to get to know the new guy; it's sort of my job to get all the gossip. It helps everyone get to know your background without you having to answer a bunch of repetitive questions about your past," she explained, "besides, I like getting to know people."

Harry suppressed a grimace at the thought of questions about his past, knowing he wouldn't be answering them, and hoping that bubbly girl talking to him wouldn't push him for information he didn't want to share.

"So, let's run over what rumors I've heard and you can confirm that they're true," Pixie ordered. "You're from England, you were imprisoned for two months, Deadpool and Wolverine broke you out, you only found out you were a mutant earlier this week, Wolverine is your grandfather, and for some reason you haven't gone to school for a few years. Does that cover the basics?"

"I suppose," Harry admitted reluctantly.

"So, what haven't you gone to school?" She asked.

"Listen, you're nice and you're the only person outside of Piotr and some of the professors who's talked to me much when they didn't have to, but there are things I can't talk about," Harry said.

"Okay, what can you talk about?" She questioned accepting him at his word and moving on.

Harry, caught off guard by her easy acceptance, answered, "I don't really know what you want to know."

"We don't know a lot about your powers, how about that," she offered.

Harry smiled; that was something he could talk about; "Well, I can feel pretty much anything around me that has any sort of electric charge, which is pretty much everything."

"That sounds wicked! What else," she prompted.

"I can throw lightning, absorb electricity from any source I've tried so far and I heal very quickly," he explained.

"Oh," she said, "I thought Dr. Grey set your nose, but you weren't wearing a face guard or anything, so I guess that makes sense."

"Yeah, I guess it works better on soft tissue," Harry replied, "From what Dr. Grey said my nose would have healed on it's own in a couple of hours, but she wanted me to try to heal it faster. I did, but it was uncomfortable and I felt like I needed to absorb electricity after I did it."

"That sounds pretty handy, especially if you're going to do one on one combat instruction with Wolverine. Cypher was black and blue after every session for weeks," Pixie commented. "So, when you throw lightning, does it come from your hands, or like your eyes or something? Is it like a projectile or all like the Emperor from Star Wars where the lightning arcs from your hands into the target?"

"I've never seen Star Wars, so I don't know if it's comparable," Harry admitted, "I've never tried to channel it through anything but my hands, but I think I probably could. And as to if it's bolts or arcs of lightning, I can do both."

"That's so cool," Pixie gushed.

"Tell me about you," Harry countered, stopping the girl from continuing, "I mean I've heard you talking to your friends and you're a lot different then, you're less…"

"Less of an airhead," the girl replied with a smile. "I admit, it's a bit of an act; but with the pink hair and the pixie wings I have the best look to pull it off."

"But why, if that's not really how you are?" Harry asked.

"It's easier," she answered, "If people don't take me too seriously, they tend to tell me more than they otherwise would."

Harry nodded, admitting to himself that her act had helped draw him into the conversation. "They're not, you know," he said absently as he considered her words.

"What's not," Pixie asked.

"Your wings," Harry explained, "Pixie's have bat like wings."

"Okay," she said skeptically, "and how did you figure this?"

"I've seen pixies before; they're little blue flying demons who destroy everything they touch," Harry answered, "you look a lot more like a fairy, they're quite a bit smaller, but they have the whole multi-colored hair thing and similar wings to yours."

"Pixies and Fairy's don't exist," she stated, wondering if he was joking.

"Tell that to my friend Neville," Harry replied, "he hates those things."

"You're serious?"

"Yeah well," Harry stumbled to figure out what to say to cover his blunder, "there are more things in heaven and earth and all that," he said, quoting Professor Xavier's lesson on Hamlet from earlier in the day.

"Well, they were right about one thing," Pixie stated.

"Who was right about what," Harry pressed.

"I overheard Dr. Grey and Mr. Summers talking about you with the Professor earlier today," she answered, "they were saying were both interesting and confusing."

"I've been described as worse," Harry stated with a smile. "Now quit dodging the question and tell me about you; it's only fair."

"Well, I was born Megan Gwynn in a little town called Abergylid in Wales. My father was a coal miner; he died in a mining accident when I was nine. Mum didn't really know what to do with me when I sprouted wings and my hair turned pink, so when Moira showed up and told her about the school, she jumped at the chance. My best friend is Jubilee, I like to rollerblade and dance, my favorite class is math, my favorite food is barbeque ribs and I'm single; how's that?" The pink haired girl offered with a smile.

"I was born in London and lived in Wales until my parents were murdered when I was one. I lived in Surrey after that. My best friends are Ron and Hermione I miss them. I like to play chess, badly, spend time talking with my friends and spending time with my owl Hedwig. My favorite food is steak and kidney pie, I don't have a favorite class, and I've never dated," Harry countered.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Pixie said with a smile that quickly faded.

Knowing what she was about to ask, Harry pre-empted the question, "my parents were involved in a group that was trying to bring criminals to justice. They'd been trying to catch this particular person for a while when broke into our house and killed them. He tried to kill me too," Harry pulled back his hair, showing his famous curse scar, "instead he left me with this."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "Did they ever catch him?"

Harry shook his head, "he went to ground for several years after that, but recently popped up and tried to kill me again."

"Why?" She asked.

"He considers me a loose end," Harry replied simply, "either that or he still holds a grudge against my parents. I don't know, he didn't really say when he was trying to kill me."

"Sorry, I didn't mean," she began.

"Don't worry about it, I'm used to it," Harry waved off her apology. "We're a barrel of laughs though, aren't we?"

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Saturday morning after his tutoring in physics and biology, Harry had his first danger room session. When he arrived, what seemed like the entire teaching staff and a couple of his classmates were waiting in the observation bay, wanting to see what he could do.

Having a basic idea of how things worked with the danger room from stories that he'd heard throughout the week, Harry entered the room and waited for his instructions. He almost felt nostalgic for having the need to ignore a crowd intent on watching his every move.

"Mr. Potter, we are first going to start with testing the electrical output your touch," Xavier's voice rang through the intercom system. A large metal box with two extended handles appeared in front of him; he'd tried to understand how that worked without magic, but Dr. McCoy's explanation was well beyond him.

"Please take the grips in each of your hands Harry," the genial voice of Beast sounded. Up in the control room, Jean Grey, Beast, Xavier and Logan looked at various readouts generated from the construct below. "He's fluctuating between ten and twelve amps at 3,000 volts," the blue furred man said in amazement.

"That's a lot then," Logan observed.

"It's a little more than they used to execute prisoners in the electric chair," Jean explained.

"A lot then," Logan repeated.

"Alright Harry, could you try to consciously increase your energy output?" Beast asked into the microphone.

Down in the Danger Room, Harry shrugged and concentrated on pushing the current in his body through his hands. It took him several minutes to figure out how to control his power to do that before he ultimately decided to pool his energy as he would if he was going to throw lightning. Very soon after that, he felt the telltale tingle and warmth spread through his fingers and hands.

In the control booth, Beast began to read off the results in astonishment as the readings rapidly built, "Okay Harry, pull it back and lower it as much as you can," Beast ordered as the needle was buried on both the amp and voltage meters.

Harry instantly released his control on the energy he had pooled in his hands and felt it dissipate back into his body.

"Alright, we're back to your base level, now can you try to pull back and reduce your output even more," Beast called over the intercom.

Harry frowned, unsure how to go about doing so. At his base level, as Dr. McCoy had called it, he didn't really feel the energy flowing through him. Still, mastering this was important if he ever wanted to have any semblance of a normal life.

Closing his eyes, he turned his focus inward, trying to feel for the energy that ran through him when he wasn't actively using it. For a few seconds, he thought he felt a slight tingle, but he couldn't pin it down.

Frustrated, he decided to change tactics and try to absorb whatever power was in his hands deeper into his body. Turning his new sense inward was an odd experience, but when he finally figured out how to do so, he was startled at how much energy he contained. As he tried figure out how to direct the energy within, he found that he was constantly absorbing the ambient power from everything around him.

It took Harry another minute to determine how to pull the energy from his hands into the core of his body, only as soon as he did, he began absorbing the power from around him at an even more rapid rate.

"You had it for a minute, Harry," Beast's voice called, "Let's move on to target practice."

"Beams or bolts," the young wizard asked.

"Bolts," Beast replied, "we'll start with stationary targets at ten feet." Harry instinctively dropped into one of the fighting stances Logan had taught him and began pooling his energy in his hands. "We're shooting for accuracy, not speed right now Harry," Beast reminded him just before the first target appeared.

Half an hour later, Logan was smirking as he listened to Cyclops complain, "100% on stationary targets; another 100% on level 1 and level 2 moving targets; 85% overall! That's better than I did in my first year of training."

"Don't you just have to look at something to aim," Wolverine asked helpfully, not fully suppressing a chuckle at the boy scouts glare.

Beast relayed the scores to Harry and the boy just shrugged, "I'll do better next time," he called back causing Scott's frown to deepen and Logan to laugh outright.

"Alright Harry, we're going to do a combat simulation now," Beast informed him; "We'll start with one opponent and increase the difficulty based on your performance. If at any time you need to stop, say so. We'll be monitoring your performance closely and if you are incapacitated there are safety overrides that immediately end the program."

"I'm ready," Harry said calmly, already pooling power in his hands. The gunmetal grey walls faded to black and in the blink of an eye it was nighttime and he was standing in the middle of a lush garden, huge shoots of bamboo behind him and statues of Buddha lining a gravel trail in front of him.

At the edge of his senses, he could vaguely feel the two groups who were watching his performance. Much closer he felt something foreign to him appear. Assuming it was his opponent, Harry began cautiously moving towards it. The being suddenly accelerated towards him, but despite knowing exactly where it was, in the dark he couldn't see it.

He moved out of his unseen opponent's path only for it to change directions, again charging straight at Harry. Reaching out for the beings energy, Harry clamped it in an iron fist and pulled. A spark lit up the darkness briefly illuminating a black clad figure, a ninja, as it fell to the ground.

Unwittingly Harry's mind flashed back to the graveyard, reminded of the black robes the Death Eaters wore as they appeared out of nothing. "It'll be different the next time," he whispered to himself, deliberately forgetting this was only a training exercise.

Two more ninja's materialized a short way from Harry. Knowing exactly where his enemies were, he maneuvered closer to the pair; two bolts of electricity erupted from his hands, he heard a shuffle near to where he was aiming. Concentrating on his senses, he found that one of his opponents was down, injured but still potentially dangerous, while the other had avoided his attack all together and was even now circling around behind him.

Cautiously approaching the downed ninja, he unleashed a tight beam of pure electricity; surprising himself by slicing the target in two. A kick landed in his upper back, only a split second before he noticed his attacker had approached him. Able to prepare himself, Harry rolled through the blow, finding his feet just in time to dodge the follow up attack.

He was on the defensive already. The ninja was too close to hit with lightning, Harry being too new in his powers to avoid telegraphing the move. Catching his opponent's fist, he was surprised when it gave a familiar jerk in his grasp. Grasping the constructs arm with his other hand, he pushed the energy through his hands and into the ninja until it dropped to the ground.

Even as the body of the downed enemy was disintegrating, another two opponents appeared behind and above him. He had only a second to dive out of the way, as he felt invisible projectiles flying at him. Despite his efforts to avoid it, an arrow, shot by his opponents tore open his right shoulder. Growling, Harry ducked behind one of the larger Buddha's as his shoulder knit itself back together.

Once the injury healed, he began his approach, weaving between the statues and dodging the occasional arrow, while building up the largest amount of power he'd ever channeled. The base of a bamboo tower appeared at the edge of his limited vision. Easily locating his opponents perched overhead, Harry eased around his cover and let loose.

A bolt of lightning as thick and long as a man's torso tore from his palms, the shockwave of the bolt threw him backwards and cracked the stone of the statue. Thirty feet away the structure exploded with a thunderous crack.

Blinking his eyes several times to clear the spots, Harry confirmed he had no active opponents and slowly stood up. The burning remains of what looked like a bamboo scaffold along with a bunch of scattered debris cast the garden in an eerie glow.

"I'm going to increase the level of difficulty of your opponents as well as their numbers," the disembodied voice of Beast came, startling Harry.

"Bring it on," Harry growled.

Up in the control booth Logan leaned of Hank's shoulder and suggested, "Two level three opponents with bladed weapons, and a level five."

"Are you certain," Beast asked, "while his performance thus far has been admirable, that is well beyond what he's faced so far."

"If anything it's below him," Logan answered with a frown.

Looking back at the Professor, the blue furred mutant noticed a grim look on the man's face before he received a nod of approval.

"It's about to get real kid," Harry heard Logan's voice warn over the intercom before three opponents appeared. Instead of grouping like his previous enemies, they immediately split up, two flanking him while the third stayed in place.

A bold of lightning shot from Harry at the stationary opponent only for it to disappear, reappearing quite a ways behind him. Simultaneously the other opponents changed the trajectory of their approach. Not content to wait for an attack, Harry concentrated and with a wave of his arm unleashed a wide arc of electricity towards one of his flanking opponents.

Between the firelight and the glare of his attack, Harry watched as the black clad figure leapt over the incoming bolt of electricity. A blow to the back of his head knocked him to the ground. Rolling into a defensive posture, he looked up at nothing; distantly he felt the third, stationary opponent materialize in its original position; of more concern, however, were the two opponents rapidly approaching his downed position.

Regaining his feet, Harry prepared for the attack he knew was coming until he saw that both his attackers were carrying swords, "Bugger!"

Harry dove forward into a roll below the blade cutting through the air towards him. Coming to his feet, Harry's right hand erupted into the tightest beam he could manage. Swung it at the closer of his two attackers, he had to fight the urge to gape when it cleaved his opponent's blade in half and continued through its torso.

Unable to recover quickly enough from the attack, he felt the bite of his second opponents blade as it dug into his lower back. Energy still pooled in his hand, he pushed it outward as he spun and struck his assailant as hard as he could with his charged fist. Screaming as the blade in his back twisted with his movement, Harry hardly noticed as his attacker crumbled to the ground and dissolved as all his previously defeated opponents had.

Harry gasped as he pulled the sword from his body, mingled with relief and agony. Shakily, he stood, a weak charge building in one hand and the sword grasped in the other. Not feeling his opponent across the room any longer, Harry spun, swinging the sword he held at neck height, catching his opponent and lodging the blade in its neck before it had fully materialized.

"Can I be done now," He asked, releasing the sword and staggering away in no particular direction.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"What the hell were you thinking," Jean Grey yelled.

Harry looked up from his cot in the medical bay at Logan in askance prompting the man to shrug, "Umm, who are you yelling at?" he asked.

"Both of you," she bellowed, glaring at Wolverine "you, having Hank crank up the difficulty during his first session in the Danger Room," turning her ire on Harry, she continued, "and you for not stopping the first time you got injured, let alone getting yourself stabbed!"

"Right," Harry said through a wince, "glad to have that straight."

"Keep talking funny guy, I'll take away your pain medication," Jean threatened oblivious to Harry shrugging in indifference to her threat as she stormed from the room.

"You alright," Wolverine asked after she'd gone.

"I've been through worse," Harry answered.

"That don't mean you're alright, that just mean's you've been hurt before," Logan countered.

"I'll be fine," Harry assured the man.

"That'll have to do," the gruff man stated, "I'll be around if you need me," he offered before he left.

Six hours later Harry woke from a healing sleep. Experimentally trying to sit up he found that aside from some residual pain and stiffness, he felt fine. Utilizing whatever sixth sense healers of all kinds possess to know when their patients are going to make a break for it, Jean Grey entered at that moment.

"You lay back down," she ordered, obviously not having completely calmed down yet.

"I'm fine," Harry countered.

"You were run through," the redhead reminded him, "you are most certainly not fine!"

"No, really, I am," Harry protested, "I have a little pain and stiffness, but nothing I can't handle."

"We'll see about that," she countered pulling on some rubber gloves. What followed was a fifteen-minute exam at the end of which she reluctantly pronounced him essentially healed. "You're lucky you take after Logan," she complained.

Methodically removing the various monitors attached to his body, she discovered that the IV that should have been pumping his pain medication had been pulled out. "Harry, how long has it been this way," she asked indicating the loose IV needle.

"I didn't like how it made me feel and you weren't around so I pulled it out before I went to sleep," Harry answered.

"How long ago was that?" She questioned in growing horror.

"When did Logan leave?" Harry asked, "Right after that."

"You haven't, you didn't, of all the," Jean spluttered, "What on Earth possessed you to do that," she screeched.

"I didn't like how it made me feel," Harry repeated, "it was like ice flowing through my veins. My body kept fighting that feeling, which meant I wasn't healing as fast," he explained.

"Why didn't you call me?" She asked.

"I didn't want to bother anybody," he answered, "besides, it wasn't that bad."

"What kind of pain have you been through that a stab wound isn't that bad?" she questioned rhetorically, "They're supposed to be one of the most painful wounds a person can feel."

"You don't want to know," Harry answered seriously.

"I need to know if I'm going to treat you," she protested.

"Leave it alone," Harry warned.

"I can't do that, Harry," she said gently.

"Well, I'm not about to tell you about it," Harry countered.

"Harry," she began.

"Leave it alone," he snarled.

"What's going on," Logan asked entering the room.

"It's nothing," Harry answered.

"It's not nothing," Jean objected turning to Wolverine, "he pulled out his IV!"

"I told you, my body was fighting it," Harry stated.

"But you could have called me," she reiterated, "We could have found something that your body wouldn't fight."

"Can we just drop this," Harry pleaded.

"No, we can't just drop this! I demand you tell me," she began.

"You demand?" Harry yelled, "I don't care what you demand, I told you to drop it, now bloody well drop it!"

Jean scowled at him, and then closed her eyes. Harry felt an alien pressure in his mind and realized what she was doing. Before he could protest, Jean fell to the ground, her scream ripping through the air.

"I told you to drop it," Harry shouted, tearing off the rest of the medical devices still hooked to him, "Do that again and you'll regret it a hell of a lot more than you do now." His piece said Harry stalked angrily from the room, ignoring her cries.

"Jeanie," Logan asked kneeling next to the woman, "what's the matter?"

"So much pain," she whimpered.

He easily lifted her from the floor and set her on the recently vacated bed. Looking around, he found a box of tissues and handed them to her before stepping back and waiting for her to compose herself.

"What happened," Logan asked in concern though he was uncertain for whom.

"I…I looked at his memories," she admitted, "I wanted to know why a stab wound that bad barely seemed to bother him."

"You looked into his mind when he specifically told you not to?" Logan asked, incensed. "If you had done that to me a few days after we first met, I would have killed you," the man stated.

"I know it was unethical and I wish I could take it back, but he's just a kid and I thought I knew better," she offered.

"Arrogant," Logan pointed out.

"It was," she admitted.

After several seconds of silence, his curiosity overrode his anger the redhead and he asked, "What did you see?"

"That's the worst part," she said with a humorless laugh, "it didn't make any sense. I heard a high pitched voice say 'Crucio' and then the memory exploded with pain beyond anything I'd imagined possible."

Her explanation not making any more sense to him than it did to her, he focused on what to him was the more pressing issue, "I'll talk to him; but if I were you, I'd avoid him for a couple of days, then apologize and not bring it up again."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"It comes so naturally," Harry began feeling Logan approaching his position on the floor of an alcove mostly hidden from view, "more so than almost anything else I've ever done."

Wolverine looked down on his grandson, sitting on the floor, idly manipulating an arc of electricity issuing from a nearby power outlet. One second the flow of energy was like lightning, forked and uncontrolled and the next it was a thin, straight beam, then a wavy line, before changing into something akin to the readout from a heart monitor; all the while, Harry never took his eyes off his own.

"Instincts are a part of being a mutant," Logan explained, "it's like being able to see or breathe."

"It's more than that to me," Harry countered, "and that's the problem."

"How is that a problem," the man questioned.

"Back home, I have so much to live up to and I never felt like I did. People expected me to be able to use my power like this; instinctually you know, and I never could." Finally getting a glimpse into Harry's background, Logan decided the only thing he could do at this point was to listen, so he slid down the wall across from his grandson and waited for him to go on.

Several minutes passed with only the strange hiss of the electricity dancing through the air before Harry continued, "I've been avoiding disclosing information about my past because I was afraid. There are rules and laws, and if I talked about it, I'd be breaking them and in return they could and probably would take the only world in which I'd felt any shred of belonging away from me. I've always said I just want to be Harry, nothing more, nothing less, but when it came down to it, I didn't want to risk what made me special because deep down I liked being more than just Harry."

A thick arc of electricity jumped from the socket with a loud crack causing Harry to smile. "Now, being here, it's the first time I've ever felt normal in my whole life. It's the first time I can just be me, just Harry, without somebody else's expectations determining who I should be. With the Dursley's I was just boy or freak, at Hogwarts I was the fabled Boy-Who-Lived or the Chosen-One, or the Gryffindor Golden Boy." Dropping his gaze, he whispered, "I don't know if I want to go back to that life."

"We're family; so it goes without saying that whatever you decide you have my support for what it's worth," Logan started, "Now, I'm not going to lie and pretend I understood what you're talking about, but it doesn't sound to me like you want to go back. What's waiting for you back there?"

"War," Harry answered simply.

"So why go back," Logan pressed.

"Could you," Harry countered, "could you leave it all behind knowing everyone you ever cared about, everyone you ever knew were facing the certainty of war. Could you abandon them to chance knowing that their association with you put them in danger? Could you endanger people who saved you, leaving them unprepared, knowing that eventually the war would find you? I don't think I can."

Thinking back to his multiple attempts to do just that and abandon the school and students only to end up right back where he started, Logan knew he couldn't any more than his grandson could; especially not if they were in danger. "I don't suppose I could," Wolverine answered, "I don't want to spill your secrets, Harry, but I'd like to get an idea of what they're capable of so we can prepare an appropriate defense or evacuation plan."

Unwilling to leave his hosts unprepared should the war come to their doorstep, Harry agreed. After making Logan swear not to reveal anything he learned without first clearing it with the Harry, the teen gave his grandfather an overview of magic, Wizarding culture, the main players in the war and when pressed, his own life and role in the Wizarding World.

Logan took some time to absorb what he'd just discovered. The idea that a group of people had developed similar powers over a period of centuries if not millennia wasn't difficult for him to believe nor was it hard for him to imagine that group essentially seceding from society at large and forming their own hidden world.

There was a sentiment among many mutants that it would be best for their own future to do the same thing, some smaller groups having already done so. At one point, the Professor had even believed that Harry was simply a part of one such collective.

No, the problem Logan had with what he'd learned from his grandson was why the kid wanted to go back at all. He'd keep quiet for now, but very soon, they would revisit this conversation and there was no question in his mind that The Wolverine would know the answer before the end of that conversation.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: No Good Deed

"So he opened up to you," Xavier stated as Logan entered his office.

"Yeah," Wolverine replied, "after swearing me to secrecy."

"There must be something you intend on sharing with me or you wouldn't be here," Charles observed as Logan took a seat across from him.

"The kids had a shitty life and he's afraid it'll follow him here," he explained, "I can't give you the details, but from what I learned there is some basis for him to worry if he's found here."

"If they come, whoever they are, how much of a threat do they pose," the Professor asked, "could we repel them with our current defenses?"

"Depends on where they arrived," Logan replied, "they can teleport pretty much anywhere, project shields to protect themselves, read and control minds, contort their surroundings at will, fire energy projectiles…"

"Contort their surroundings, could you be more specific," Charles requested.

"Taking your desk for example, they could turn it into a living, breathing bear and direct it to tear your arms off, move it into the path of an incoming attack, or have it run around their feet like an exited puppy," Logan explained.

"That's an impressive list of abilities," Xavier commented. "Did Mr. Potter tell you how we could determine which of these potential attackers had what powers," the man asked hoping to draw out every bit of information he could.

"Yeah," Logan answered unhappily, "assume any attacker could have all of them."

Charles frowned in thought before his brilliant mind made some connections, "the second mutant gene Mr. Potter carries; it must grant the same abilities to all who carry it as opposed to the X-gene's many varied powers."

"And they've had thousands of years to figure out how best to use it," Logan added without thinking.

"Thousands of years and they remain undiscovered," Xavier observed, "Considering their impressive list of abilities, I suppose that it makes sense should they not wish to be discovered they could avoid it."

The man lost himself contemplating the many different avenues of thought this revelation had triggered only to come to a sudden stop, "Why hasn't Harry demonstrated any of these abilities himself," he asked, "he should have easily been able to free himself, at the least, from his captivity."

"He's untrained, and we're at the limit of what I can tell you about that," Logan warned.

Disappointed but not surprised, he returned his line of thinking to the defense of his own untrained children, "Did he tell you of any weaknesses we might use to our advantage?"

Logan groaned he was walking a tightrope with his promise as it was, coming up with an explanation for wands without breaking it was beyond him, "he did, but I can't think of a way to explain it without breaking my promise."

"I shall have to ask Mr. Potter directly," Charles said seriously, "the safety of the students at this school is paramount."

Harry arrived in the office a moment later, "you wanted to see me Professor?"

"Yes," Xavier answered, "Logan and I were trying to figure out how to defend the school should those who wish to harm you discover your presence, but we are at an impasse as he is unable to answer some pertinent questions without breaking his promise to you. I'm afraid that with the security of my students on the line I'm going to have to insist on some kind of answer."

Harry turned to his grandfather, "you knew this would happen," he accused before muttering something about Charles being too much like a headmaster.

Logan held the young wizards gaze, but didn't deny it. While he hadn't counted on it, Charles was too smart by half and he wasn't surprised the man had backed him into a corner so easily.

Harry turned to Xavier, "I sort of figured this might happen when I told Logan," he explained, "the only loophole I can find is if I don't tell you," he admitted reluctantly.

Charles nodded, understanding what Harry was asking of him. Slipping into Harry's mind he watching as the young man's memories unfolded before him, paying particular attention to the ones the Harry's subconscious considered important. The trio sat in silence for nearly half an hour as Charles learned exactly who Harry Potter was and where he came from.

"Thank you Mr. Potter," Charles began withdrawing from the young wizard's mind, "given the trust you've shown in me, I would like to return the favor by teaching you to protect your mind from even the most powerful of mental intrusions." Harry nodded and without a word left the room.

Wolverine made to follow only to be stopped, "He had considered this as a possibility, but he still considers what I did an invasion of his mind. He feels like things are spiraling out of his control. The best thing we can do to help him is to show him that he can trust us and do everything in our power to protect the school from a magical attack."

Logan grudgingly agreed, abandoning the thought of tracking down his grandson right then. "You should be proud of him," Xavier stated, "Some of the things he's faced I'd hesitate to send the entire team against, and he's done it with nothing more than courage and determination." The subject of Harry's past still being taboo, the pair moved on to figuring out how to defend the school should wizards attack. An hour later, they had a tentative plan offering additional protections for the school in place.

"Before you go, Logan, I would like you to inform Mr. Potter that we believe we have located the Grangers," Charles stated.

A look of disappointment briefly flashed across Wolverine's face, "I'll tell him."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Harry sat alone in his and Piotr's room, a cordless phone in one hand and sheet of paper with the Granger's home and work phone numbers in the other. He'd been sitting there, his ticket home in his hands, for several minutes simultaneously working up the nerve to call, trying to decide how much to tell them about his disappearance and whereabouts, and whether he'd rather talk to her mother or father.

Not really coming to any sort of decision, he nevertheless turned the phone on and dialed. Two rings later a female voice said, "Granger residence."

"Um, hello, is this Hermione's mum," Harry asked, "This is Harry Potter, her friend from school."

"Hello Harry," Mrs Granger stated, "you must know Hermione is away at school."

"Yeah, I do," Harry replied, "I got in some trouble this summer and didn't really have anybody else I could contact," he explained hoping the woman noticed his meaning.

"I see," she replied neutrally.

"I was wondering if you might write her and see if she might let some of our friends know how to contact me," Harry pressed.

"I don't see any problem with that," the woman stated, seeming to catch on to what Harry was asking. "Surely you know that she's very busy with school and may not be able to get back to me for a while," she pointed out.

"I understand, ma'am and thank you," Harry offered before giving her the phone number of the school at the last minute remembering that Dumbledore had virtually cut off all of his communication during the summer for fear of owls being intercepted. He didn't believe that Death Eaters were likely to know what a phone number was, let alone be able to track Harry down with one. Thanking the woman again for her help, Harry disconnected the call; all he could do now was wait.

Across the Atlantic, Ophelia Granger hung up her own phone and finished writing a quick letter to her daughter. She was aware that Hermione's friend Harry had gone missing under suspicious circumstances and that now the Wizarding papers were reporting that he was a wanted fugitive. Attaching the letter to the snowy white owl that had come to stay with them early in the summer, the woman went to find her husband to share the latest news.

-~-~-~-~

Deloris Umbridge sat in her office contemplating her next move while the letter Ophelia Granger had written to her daughter crackled in her fireplace having never reached its intended recipient. She had hoped the Muggles had simply made a mistake and Potter had died with his family, or else ended up soulless in some hospital as an unidentified victim of the Dementor's kiss.

That the boy was still alive gave her pause; it was a difficult thing to disappear from the Wizarding world, particularly when they were looking for you. Briefly, she considered that Dumbledore or one of his lackey's had helped the boy disappear, but had the man been involved Potter would surely be in the castle. Besides, she monitored his communications as best as she could in the castle and he seemed to be looking for the brat as well.

There were a few questions before her; should she expend the resources to find Potter or leave him where he was, safely away from the Wizarding world, what to do with the Mudbloods family for interfering, and who to inform that the boy had finally resurfaced. Sadly, since the Potter boy hadn't actually broken any laws, she couldn't just stick the uppity Gryffindor's mother into Azkaban.

A terrible smile spread across the toad-like face of the woman as she had an idea. Throwing some floo powder into her fireplace in order to contact an Obliviator she trusted and set her plan in motion. Once she finished speaking with him, she'd have to get into contact with her dear friend Lucius Malfoy.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Harry's time was consumed with classes, tutoring sessions and extra combat practice in and out of the Danger Room whenever Logan could convince him. It was only as he woke up the following Sunday that he realized it had been over a week since he'd contacted Hermione's mother. He'd expected at least a return call by now knowing that Hermione wrote to and received letters from her parents at least twice a week during the school year.

Unwilling to put it off and ignoring the gnawing feeling in his gut that something was wrong, Harry entered Professor Xavier's office knowing the man would be expecting him.

"I've been wondering about the lack of response as well," the man stated answering Harry's unasked question, "I don't believe that a follow up call would be out of order at this point." The man glanced pointedly at the phone sitting on his desk.

"Now," Harry asked.

"No time like the present Mr. Potter," Xavier replied.

Seeing no reason to delay the inevitable, Harry pulled the paper with the Grangers number from his pocket, picked up the phone and dialed.

"Granger residence," a now familiar female voice answered.

"Hello Mrs. Granger, this is Harry Potter," Harry stated.

The line was silent for several seconds before the woman spoke again, "how can I help you Harry?"

Harry's mouth went dry, "Mrs. Granger, do you recall the conversation we had last week?"

"I'm sorry," the woman asked in confusion.

"Last week, I called you, do you remember?" Harry pressed.

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about," Mrs. Granger insisted, "Hermione speaks highly of you and I've always wanted to get to know her friends, but we've never had the chance to speak before."

"My mistake," Harry said in defeat before simply hanging up on the woman. "They got to her," he said looking directly into Xavier's eyes.

"Either that or she's being watched or in danger," Charles countered, "come with me."

The Professor led Harry to the elevator to the basement levels of the mansion and then down a hall that had been previously off limits. "Where are we going Professor," Harry questioned, his mind whirling. If they'd gotten to Mrs. Granger, they might have gotten to Hermione. Voldemort might already have taken over the Wizarding world!

"Calm yourself, Harry," the Professor ordered, calling him by his first name for the first time. "We are going to use Cerebro to find out just what's happening."

Professor Xavier led him into a large, domelike room with a bridge leading towards the center at the end of which stood a computer console and a helmet. "I need you to be still and keep calm," the man reiterated as he placed the helmet on his head. The lights in the room darkened and a projection of the world appeared around them. The view of the continents faded to a monochrome image of Ophelia Granger sitting on a sofa reading a book as the Professor directed his attention at the woman with a practiced ease.

A frown lit the face of Charles Xavier as he easily bypassed the rough memory blocks in Dr. Granger's mind; and what he learned greatly angered him. The Grangers had been eating supper when a man had simply popped into their dining room, wand drawn. Before the couple could react, both found themselves locked in place, unable to move and terrified.

The man who'd petrified them pointed his wand first at Mr. Granger hissing "Legilimens." Less than a minute later, he waved his wand in a complex pattern finally flicking it at the man, "Obliviate!" He then turned to Mrs Granger and repeated the process. As he was viewing said woman's memories, he sensed the violent assault on her mind, for that is what it was. Every memory regarding the woman's recent interaction with Harry, with her husband regarding her conversation with the boy, thoughts of any documentation of the event disappeared from her mind, as the man brought them together and bound them from her conscious mind with the Obliviate spell. Before he left, the man left the room and gathered the piece of paper that held the number to the school. He then released the body-bind holding the Granger's in place and disappeared with a muffled crack.

"Harry," Xavier said even as a map of England reappeared within the dome, "please get comfortable as it may take me some time to discover the chain of events that led to this situation."

Harry sat down on the platform to watch, wishing he understood exactly what the Professor was doing. The image of England shifted, zooming in on the west coast. A man appeared; a wizard if the robes he wore were any indication but before Harry could get a good look at him, the map appeared again this time zooming in far to the north. A squat woman vaguely resembling a toad sat eating in the center seat at the head table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Dumbledore's seat.

The image quickly changed again, this time to Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table talking to an unseen companion. The image changed once more, flying quickly back to London and the familiar form of Albus Dumbledore who suddenly jumped to his feet, his wand appearing in his hand as he warily looked around.

"Interesting," Professor Xavier commented, startling Harry by breaking the silence, "It seems your Mr. Dumbledore has some impressive mental defenses; I can count the number of people who can detect my presence when I don't want them to on one hand."

"Can you talk to him," Harry asked; here was an avenue for him to get home.

"I am," Xavier answered, "but he's understandably distrustful of a mysterious voice in his head."

Harry wracked his brains for a way to help. The only thing that occurred to him that might convince the headmaster to listen was to tell him something that only he might say, "Tell him I'll get him wool socks for Christmas." The monochrome image of Dumbledore's eyebrows raised slightly, the only sign that an unheard conversation was even taking place.

Several minutes of silence passed before the image faded completely and the lights in the domelike room came up. Professor Xavier removed the helmet and turned to face Harry, who climbed to his feet. "It seems as though much has changed in the last two months that you are not aware of, including that you are a wanted criminal by the Ministry of Magic."

"Why, how," Harry asked in confusion.

"I don't know," the Professor admitted, "Mr. Dumbledore will explain it when he arrives."

"He's coming here," the young wizard questioned uneasily.

"While I trust you Harry, I don't trust any other wizards so we will be meeting him elsewhere," Charles replied.

"We?" Harry stated questioningly.

"I need to be there as I initiated contact with Mr. Dumbledore and I somehow doubt that Logan will be left behind," Charles countered.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"What's going on Albus," Remus asked as he, Sirius and Mad-Eye observed the aged wizard suddenly jump to his feet ready for a fight. Dumbledore didn't answer immediately, instead slowly calming himself and eventually sheathing his wand. "Albus," Remus called again finally bringing the man back to himself.

"I'm sorry Remus," Dumbledore said slowly, his face a mix of confusion and hope, "I've just had the single most interesting experience of my life." Seeing the looks his three colleagues were giving him, he endeavored to explain, "Though I'm at a loss as to how, I have just been informed of where Harry is."

"What?" Sirius exploded, "where?"

"Sit down Sirius," Mad Eye barked before turning to the silver haired wizard, "explain."

"I felt the subtlest of foreign touches in my mind," Albus began causing Moody's eye to begin rapidly spinning in its socket, ignoring this, the man continued, "when I reacted, the presence was actually surprised it had been detected. It seems Harry has fallen in with quite an extraordinary group. I don't have all the details, but we've agreed to meet in New York City tomorrow morning."

"Sounds like a trap," Moody spat, "a mysterious voice wanting you to meet somewhere where you are at a disadvantage, dangling the one thing that might get you there in front of you."

"I agree, Alastor; however the voice was able to provide some information that convinces me at the very least that he is or has been in contact with Harry," Dumbledore explained.

"I don't like it," Mad Eye pressed.

"Nor do I, old friend, but as you have already said, Harry is the one thing that would get me to agree to such a meeting." Dumbledore concurred, "Remus, Sirius, please be ready to leave in 24 hours. Alastor, I need you to remain and run the Order while we are gone." Left unsaid was that the job would fall to Moody permanently if they didn't return at all.

"Where are you going," Molly Weasley asked entering the room.

"I have some business with the International Confederation of Wizards to attend to;" Dumbledore lied smoothly, "Sirius and Remus will be joining me in trying to drum up some support among the moderate purebloods and werewolves."

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Dumbledore, Sirius, and Remus each palmed their wands in one hand and grabbed hold of an umbrella turned Portkey with the other, unsure of what to expect when they arrived at their destination somewhere in New York City. After an unusually long trip, they arrived in a plain grey room devoid of anything but a bare table and chairs.

While he hadn't known what to expect from their destination, Dumbledore recognized an interrogation room when he saw one. "Albus Dumbledore," an unfamiliar voice said as a man entered the room, "you wouldn't be trying to cross the border of the North American Magical Collective with a wanted convict and a werewolf without telling us, would you?"

Sirius paled, realizing that they had to be smack dab in the middle of a North American ministry building. Raising his wand, he decided at that moment that he'd die before returning to Azkaban. It was only Remus' firm grip on his wrist that prevented the curses from flying right then.

"Hello," Dumbledore said pleasantly, seemingly unfazed by the situation, "It seems as though you have me at the disadvantage; and you are?"

"My name is Paul Copeland, I am the magistrate of the New England region of the North American Magical Collective," the man who'd entered stated, "and I'll be asking the questions."

"I'm sure there is no need," Dumbledore began.

"Listen, the only reason you aren't all in a holding cell is that I'm not entirely sure that my staff can secure you Dumbledore," Copeland interrupted, "Now I would like to keep our conversation pleasant, so if you will please take a seat we can begin."

Reluctantly the British trio took seats across from the magistrate, "Thank you," Copeland added. "Now, Mr. Dumbledore, can you please tell me why you are transporting a wanted fugitive and a werewolf across international borders?"

"Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin are my attendants, and as such are afforded diplomatic immunity," Dumbledore answered sternly. "Our business is to locate Harry Potter, who disappeared early this summer," Dumbledore explained. At this pronouncement, the magistrate made some notes prompting the Mugwump to continue, "Despite the British ministries claim that Mr. Potter is a criminal."

"We are aware that Mr. Potter can't possibly have done anything that the British ministry is claiming as he's been here since late June," Copeland interrupted, "It's a pity that we were forced to point all of this out to the ICW as it painted your ministry a wretched and corrupt entity."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed.

"Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin are hereby granted diplomatic immunity," Copeland stated bringing the conversation back in line, "there is the matter of Mr. Lupin's condition, however. Even with said immunity, he still must register and be tagged."

"I'm right here and I'm a man, not an animal," Remus protested, "I'd just as soon return to England as opposed to being forced to wear a collar like a dog!"

"You misunderstand, Mr. Lupin," Copeland began, "While it's true that all those afflicted with Lycanthropy in North America must register and those who refuse are treated as dangerous criminals, we hardly intend to place you in a collar. We will not allow anything like the infamous Fenrir Greyback to exist in our country." Once he was certain that Remus had processed his statement, he continued, "Your tag, should you choose to remain, would be a simple piece of discreet jewelry, it purpose not to announce to the world that you are a werewolf, rather it is for your protection and the protection of anyone near you when you transform."

"How so?" Remus asked, reluctantly agreeing with required registration of werewolves.

"The tag detects any change from human form to wolf and when it senses such a change it acts as a Portkey to the reserve in whichever region you happen to be in," the man explained. "I feel that I must inform you that the reserves are not policed during the full moon. Further, the burden of medical treatment and transportation to your previous location following a transformation falls on the infected persons shoulders. These are our laws regarding Lycanthropy."

"What happens to the tag when or if I leave the country," Remus asked.

"The charms on the jewelry that prevent it from being removed fade within a week and the Portkey charm will only function within the boundaries of the North American Magical Collective," Copeland replied.

"That's actually much better than I expected," Remus said in surprise.

"Our oaths prevent any overt bigotry from being turned into law," Copeland offered, "though it doesn't stop those who continually push the anti-werewolf agenda from trying."

"Oaths?" Sirius asked, speaking for the first time.

"Service oaths that every civil servant from the President down must take before being inducted into office," Copeland clarified, "they're based on the British oath of office."

"There's a British oath of office," Sirius said, surprised.

"There was," Dumbledore interjected, "it fell out of use when Gnarl the Wizardkiller led the Goblins against the Ministry of Magic in 1878. They captured the ministry building and nearly every employee in a surprise raid. The oaths of office prevented the ministry from caving in to their demands and so Gnarl had every captive executed. An interim ministry was formed without the oaths, when the war ended two years later, the interim ministry stayed in power and the oath hasn't been used since."

"Forgive an old man his stories," the Supreme Mugwump stated, changing the subject, "we have business to attend to."

"Very well," Copeland stated, "Mr. Lupin, your decision sir?"

A half hour later Remus was registered and tagged and joined Sirius and Dumbledore in taking a hold of a hockey stick turned Portkey.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"When did you agree to meet, Professor," Harry asked while practicing tossing balls of electricity from hand to hand.

"Mr. Dumbledore had stated they would be here by now;" Xavier answered.

"How long we gonna to wait Chuck?" Wolverine asked impatiently.

"There's something different," Harry stated suddenly, jumping to his feet. Before his companions could ask what he meant, a swirling vortex of color briefly flashed into existence depositing three men.

"Harry," Sirius yelled spotting his missing godson and rushing to pull the teen into a hug. Pulling back he raked his eyes over the young wizard looking for any injuries before noticing the ball of electricity Harry held in his hand. "What the hell is that?" Closing his palm on the energy to absorb it back into his body, Harry looked to Logan and Xavier not really knowing how to explain it.

Noticing the byplay and that his own companions weren't in any rush to speak, Sirius asked the next obvious question, "Who are you?"

"I'm Charles Xavier," the Professor answered, "and this is Logan, Mr. Potter's maternal grandfather; Logan, this is Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black," Xavier introduced, recognizing the wizards from Harry's memories.

"Harry's grand parents are dead," Remus spoke up, "Lily's parents died in a car crash in 1978."

"I'm afraid that's not correct," Xavier retorted, "Mr. Potter's mother's guardians may have died in 1978. Her mother, Charlotte Evans, died of pneumonia in 1958; only a month after Lily was born. She was sent to live with her closest known relative, her half sister, Rose Evans."

"If you're Lily's father, why didn't you raise her," Remus pressed, questioning the stocky man.

"Didn't know 'bout her," Logan growled, not liking the implication that he'd abandoned his family, "didn't know 'bout Harry either until they kidnapped him to get to me."

"Who are they? And forgive me for asking, but you don't look nearly old enough to have fathered Lily," Dumbledore interjected, speaking for the first time in the conversation.

"Don't rightly know who they are," Logan answered gruffly, "Canadian government, shadow ops. Don't know how old I am either; but Chuck figures I'm over 100 years old."

"How is that possible," Remus questioned as the man looked several years younger than he did.

"We're mutants," Charles explained, "Logan's mutation, among other things, slows or even prevents him from aging."

"What's a mutant," Sirius asked, looking from Dumbledore to Remus for an explanation; though only the later seemed to have any idea.

"I'd heard rumors," Remus stated, "Muggles with magical powers springing up all over the world, but I'd always assumed that it was an explanation for magical events too large to completely cover up."

"We do not have magical powers," Xavier countered, "far from it. Our powers, while not well understood, are rooted in science."

"What's a Muggle," Logan whispered to Harry as the Professor gave the wizards an overview of what mutants were.

"It's a general term for people without magic," Harry answered his grandfather.

"Sounds like an insult," the man replied, unhappily.

"It can be," Harry admitted, "it depends on its usage, but from these three, it's simply a statement of fact about your ability, or lack there of, to perform magic."

"This has been a most interesting meeting," Dumbledore stated after Xavier completed his dissertation on the nature of mutation, "are you ready to return home, Harry?" He asked as he charmed the hockey stick that they'd arrived by into a new Portkey.

"No," Harry answered, prompting the headmaster to pause in his incantation, apparently having assumed his question rhetorical.

"I'm sorry," the Supreme Mugwump said in a questioning tone.

"I'm not ready to go back to Britain," Harry clarified, "for one thing, I'm apparently a wanted criminal and given my limited experience of ministerial justice, I'm not in a hurry to subject myself to it. Besides, I'm dangerous; I don't have full control of my powers yet."

"That's why we need to return you to Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained, "so that you can learn to wield your magic."

"I'm not talking about magic," Harry stated and the three elder wizards suddenly connected the dots. "I'd also like to discuss who my guardian is to be."

"You're a mutant?" Sirius asked, not having connected his godson's control of lightning with the information that Charles Xavier had provided.

"Yes," Harry answered simply, relieved that his godfather didn't pull away.

"I'm certain it's something we can work out, Harry," Dumbledore pressed, "you don't seem any different; how is it that you believe you are dangerous?"

"Anyone who touches my bare skin will be electrocuted," the young wizard responded, "I nearly killed my roommate when we first met. I didn't know about it then."

"Harry is making good progress," Xavier added, "I believe that a few more weeks training and he'll have a handle on it."

"That's going to hamper your social live," Sirius joked, eliciting a laugh from Logan and another from Remus.

Confused at to Harry's easy acceptance of the man Logan as his grandfather and what he deemed accidental magic as a mutation like the Muggles were claiming, Dumbledore met Harry's eyes and gently eased into the boys thoughts. He barely noticed the look of rage appear on the boys face when he had to conjure up a chunk of stone to block the bolt of lightning Harry had hurled at him.

"You only get one warning, Dumbledore," Harry hissed, sounding far too much like Voldemort to the man, "Stay. Out. Of. My. Mind! Or I'll make you regret it!" Enough electricity to cause his long hair to stand up danced across the boy's body as if to emphasize his point.

"Now seems as good of a time as any to ask what sort of compulsion you placed on Mr. Potter prior to his kidnapping," Charles added. Backing the men into a corner as he had would allow him a better picture as to their intentions towards his newest charge.

"What are you talking about," Remus demanded, "Dumbledore wouldn't do something like that."

Dumbledore was trapped, he knew it and he suspected Charles Xavier did as well and had deliberately engineered the situation. He had two options, deny he'd done anything wrong and possibly lose Harry's trust completely or admit that he'd done it and try to explain his reasoning and hope for the best.

"What is right and what is easy," he muttered quietly to himself before answering, "Thank you for your defense, Remus, but I'm afraid that Mr. Xavier is correct; I did place a compulsion charm on Harry just before he left Hogwarts last term."

Sirius' mind was whirling as he ran over the vast collection of compulsion charms he'd learned in his career as a Marauder; only a handful of the ones he knew seemed even remotely plausible and none of them painted a very good picture, "What charm did you cast on my godson?" He demanded.

"Obduco Captus," Dumbledore answered reluctantly.

Sirius was apoplectic, "you cast a spell designed to pacify prisoners being sent to the bloody Veil!" He exploded, "what in the name of Merlin were you bloody thinking?"

"I was," the Headmaster started before Padfoot interrupted.

"Scratch that, I don't bloody care what you were thinking," the marauder yelled, charging the man intent on breaking his nose and any other body part he could reach only to find himself suddenly unable to move. Dumbledore, seeing Sirius was ready to attack him and begun to draw his wand, only to also find himself completely incapable of motion.

"I would like to hear his answer," Charles Xavier said, his mind having easily incapacitated the trio of wizards; considering that Harry or Logan might attack the elderly man as well, he belatedly froze them as well.

"I did what I believed to be necessary," Albus stated when he regained the ability to speak, "Harry is one of Voldemort's highest priority targets; and given that he has routinely left the protections afforded by his living with his blood relatives, he needed to be protected, even from himself."

"And look how well those protections worked," Sirius growled.

"I couldn't have know that Harry and Petunia shared so little blood," Dumbledore defended, "had I, I would not have placed Harry with the Dursley's in the first place."

"If I may," Xavier interjected, "did it ever occur to you that the perceived need for such strong measures to prevent Mr. Potter from leaving his relatives might indicate there were problems with his living conditions?"

"I had hoped," Dumbledore began, "Well, no matter. Despite having the best intentions, I knew I was condemning Harry to a rough childhood when I placed him there."

"And you wonder why I'm reluctant to return to Britain," Harry added feeling betrayed. "Not only do I find I suddenly have a criminal record and can't return to Hogwarts or perform magic, but the blood protections that led to me living in Dursley hell were worthless. You knew what my childhood was like and did nothing but try to pacify me like a prisoner so I would simply accept the denial of my basic rights."

Unable to deny the truth of Harry's statements, the headmaster instead proclaimed, "This conversation has not, I suspect, gone the way anyone had imagined. I realize that my decisions and actions have caused you pain and have damaged the trust between us, Harry and I shall endeavor to rectify that to the best of my ability."

"To that end," the man continued, "I propose the following; I shall return to England and work on clearing your name, if Mr. Xavier is amenable to it, I would like for Sirius to remain and take up the mantle of Harry's guardian as were the wishes of Harry's parents." Dumbledore turned to Remus, not even having noticed it when he'd regained his mobility, "as I am unable to regularly leave Britain without arousing suspicion, would you be willing to act as our go between?"

Instead of answering, the werewolf turned his amber eyes to Harry, "Is that what you want?" He asked, Harry nodded and looked to Xavier who voiced his approval of the plan. Seeing that it fell to him, Remus turned to back Dumbledore, "if you can provide me with Portkeys as needed, I believe that it is the best solution for the time being, Albus."

"Of course," Dumbledore readily agreed. "Very well then, I shall take my leave then," he charmed the hockey stick as a Portkey and handed it to Remus, "simply tap it with your wand and say activate," he explained briefly before Apparating away without a sound.

After Dumbledore departed, Sirius looked around the empty warehouse they now gathered in and commented, "This doesn't look much like a school."

"It's not," Xavier answered, "men arriving in a whirl of light, even among mutants, isn't too common, and with the Statute of Secrecy, I believed it to be more prudent to meet away from my students."

"I suppose that makes sense," Sirius replied, "so, what now?"

"Now that introductions have been made," the Professor answered, "I believe we should depart for the school. It's about an hour's drive from here."

"That long," Sirius griped, "I wish I'd brought my bike."

"What kinda bike do you ride," Logan questioned, his interests piqued.

"I had a 1968 Triumph T120R Bonneville," the marauder answered, "I'd modified it to run silently, fly, and go a lot faster than was safe, not to mention that it didn't need petrol."

"Impressive," Logan complimented, "what happened to it?"

Sirius frowned, "I'm not sure," he replied, "seeing as I got sent to prison for thirteen years."

"You were in prison," an unfamiliar female voice asked from behind the small group.

Turning, Padfoot drew his wand automatically only to draw up short when an enormous blue hand firmly grasped his wrist, "I apologize for startling you Mr. Black," the large blue furred man stated, "allow me to introduce Dr. Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Scott Summers and I am Dr. Henry McCoy."

"Don't sneak up on me," Sirius complained taking the man's appearance in stride and shaking his hand to regain the feeling.

"I apologize," the redheaded woman, Jean Grey, replied, "but could you please answer my question?"

"He was sent to prison without a trial for a crime he didn't commit," Harry answered stiffly; he was obviously not a big fan of the woman.

If she noticed or minded, she didn't let it show, simply nodding at the explanation, "what were you accused of?"

"Murder," Sirius answered, put off by the woman's choice of subject, "they accused me of betraying Harry's parents' location to their murderer and then hunting down and killing one of my best friends along with thirteen Muggles."

Noticing the two wizards and his grandson were all frowning at her choice of topics, Logan commented, "You're making quite the first impression there Jeanie." Turning to Sirius, he picked up their conversation, "I've got an '86 Harley in the garage at the school, you think you can work some magic on it?"

Sirius smiled fondly, "I haven't worked on a bike in a long while, but I think I remember how."

"You can practice on Scooters bike," Logan joked, "don't want you messing about on mine until you're sure you know what you're doing." Cyclops began protesting before Harry tuned out their conversation.

"So," Remus began awkwardly, "a mutant huh?"

"Yeah," they teen answered, "came as a shock to me, so to speak."

"Well, you need a marauder name anyhow, might as well christen you now," the werewolf offered, "You have any ideas?"

"Fusion," Harry answered immediately.

"Well, doesn't really fit with Padfoot, Prongs and Moony," Remus complained.

"I'm not an Animagus either," Harry countered, "besides, it's already become my nickname at the school."

"How'd that come about," Remus questioned.

"Well, the way it was explained to me is that it's become a custom for mutants to take on a second identity as a show of solidarity with other mutants," Harry answered, "For instance Logan's is Wolverine, Mr. Summers is Cyclops, Ms. Munroe is Storm and Mr. McCoy is Beast."

"I guess I can understand that," Remus replied, "so why did you pick Fusion?"

"Well, we were thinking up possible names relating to electricity when one of the students suggested fuse," Harry explained, "and it just sort of hit me. Fusion is the ultimate source of energy, I'm part wizard and part mutant, a fusion of two different worlds; and I think it sounds wicked."

"So are you the ultimate source of energy then," Remus taunted playfully.

"He is rather powerful from what I've observed," Beast interjected.

"How powerful," the werewolf inquired.

"I hesitate to rank him just yet as he's so new in his powers and likely hasn't even approached his limits yet," Beast answered.

"There are rankings?" Lupin asked trying to learn all he could about the new world of which Harry was suddenly a member.

"There are," Xavier confirmed entering the conversation, "there are eight classes of mutants represented by letters from the Greek alphabet; Delta, Epsilon, Beta, Alpha, Gamma, Delta-Epsilon, Zeta and Omega in order of how commonplace they are."

"I am an Alpha class mutant for example," the Professor continued, "what that means is that I'm considered among the most powerful class of mutants and my powers are useful, completely under my control and without any noticeable drawbacks. Beta's operate at the same power level, but have flawed or uncontrolled aspects of their powers or minor to moderate changes in their appearance. Gamma class mutants are also of equal power, but have large physical changes or uncontrolled aspects of their powers that make it impossible for them to blend in to society unnoticed. To give you a practical example, Logan is a Beta and Hank is a Gamma. If Harry is unable to learn to control his power, he would be classed as a Gamma as well."

"So Harry is classed among powerful mutants," Remus marveled.

"The only more powerful class of mutants is the Omega class, which is exceedingly rare," Xavier replied, "Omega class mutant's powers have virtually limitless potential. They make up significantly less than 1% of the combined pool of Alpha, Beta and Gamma class mutants."

"Okay, so the Omega's are like the Merlin's of mutation, and the Alpha's, Beta's and Gamma's are akin to Dumbledore or the Founders," Remus clarified looking to Harry for confirmation.

"Sounds about right," Harry answered, "but this is all new to me too."

Nodding at Harry's confirmation, he pressed on, his interest peaked, "so what about the other classes?"

"The next classes are Delta and Epsilon," Charles lectured, "these mutants have significantly lower levels of power than the other classifications I've described. The difference between them is that Epsilon mutants have major physical changes that hinder them from simply blending into society; whereas Delta's do not, and often don't realize they're mutants at all."

"The last two classes are both uncommon, collectively representing less than 5% of all mutants. Epsilon-Delta class mutants aren't really mutants per say," the Professor pressed on, "for one reason or another their powers never manifest themselves. Finally, there is Zeta class; whose mutations entirely consist of physical deformities."

Sensing Remus was about to ask, the Professor preempted him, "Delta's are the most common, making up over 50% of all mutants, Epsilon's are the next most common at 20%, Beta's and Alpha's make up a little less than 10% each and Gamma's are about 5%."

The group loaded into a pair of vans, the first carrying the Professor, Cyclops, Jean, Storm and Beast, and the second held Harry, Logan, Sirius and Remus. Once they were well on their way, Remus turned his attention to the fact that six Muggles, even if they were mutants, knew of the Wizarding World. Logan he could understand as he appeared to be Harry's last remaining family and was therefore exempt from the Statute of Secrecy, but he was worried about the others.

"Harry," the man whispered, "breaking the Statute of Secrecy can get you in a lot of trouble!"

"I didn't, Remus," Harry answered with a smirk, "I told Logan, Professor Xavier read the information from my mind, and the others learned about magic from you, Sirius and Dumbledore."

"You don't need to whisper Bub," Logan said from the front seat, "I can hear your heartbeat over the traffic so no matter how quietly you talk, I'll hear you."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

When Harry, Logan and the 2 wizards entered the mansion a group of students wondering why the Danger Room training sessions for the day had been cancelled greeted them.

Glancing thoughtfully at Sirius and Remus the man made a snap decision, "They ain't cancelled anymore, go gear up," he said. Turning to Harry he added, "you too, you've got an audience to show off for, and I'm not gonna go easy on you."

With a playful salute, Harry jogged off to his room to put on his new danger room kit, just barely hearing Remus nervously ask what the Danger Room was before he was out of earshot.

Arriving at his room, he found Colossus in the middle of changing for the training session as well. When the large teen noticed Harry enter, he asked, "Who were those men with Wolverine?"

"That's my godfather and one of my parent's best friends," Harry answered casually as he pulled on the tight leather bodysuit.

"So you're going home then," Harry's roommate questioned, pausing in the process of getting dressed to await an answer.

Harry finished pulling his arms through the tight sleeves before he paused to consider the question, "I don't know, Piotr. I thought there was a lot to go back for, but the longer I'm here it gets harder to come up with reasons to leave."

Colossus smiled, "I understand what you mean," the towering young man replied, "I felt the same way when I arrived. Even though I left my family, my friends, everything I knew behind, it felt right to be here instead."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement of his roommate's statements. At first, he thought his situation far more complex that Piotr's only to draw up short at his own arrogance the more he considered the words. His roommate left behind family that loved and depended on him, his friends and the only life he'd ever known. When he thought about what he'd given up, he concluded that Colossus had given up more by being here than Harry had to give up in the first place.

Clapping Harry on the shoulder, Colossus coaxed him out of thought, "Give them a show, my friend; show them that you are doing well here."

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Arriving on the observation deck with Colossus, Harry noticed Sirius and Remus standing near the window overlooking the metallic grey room.

"Sirius, Remus, this is my roommate," Harry said approaching the pair.

"Colossus, or Piotr Rasputin if you please," the large teen interrupted, stretching out his hand to shake theirs. "So you are Fusions family?"

"I'm his godfather, Sirius Black," Padfoot replied shaking the boy's outstretched hand.

"Remus Lupin," Remus introduced himself also shaking Piotr's hand, "I'm somewhat of Harry's honorary uncle."

"You have a strong grip, Mr. Lupin," Colossus observed, "it is good to meet you both. However as I am up first, if you would please excuse me I need to warm up."

"Interesting friend," Sirius commented as Piotr excused himself. "So this is where you've been spending your time then?"

"Not really, Sirius," Harry answered awkwardly, "I've only been here about two weeks."

"Where were you before," Sirius questioned, "Oh, right," he corrected as he thought about his own question, "Sorry."

Further conversation was halted as Colossus entered the Danger Room below. The dull grey of the metal transformed into a deserted park. Two large black vans screamed across the grass covered ground, one of them angling directly at Piotr.

"What in Merlin's name is he thinking," Sirius screamed as the second vehicle closed ranks making it virtually impossible for the young man to avoid being hit.

"Wait, Sirius, just wait," Harry instructed. A moment later, the liquid shimmer of organic metal spread across the body of Colossus, who seemed to Sirius to somehow be as large as Hagrid all of the sudden. The vehicle on a crash course with the boy swerved, but it was far too late and with an explosion of sound, its front end crumpled as it came to a sudden halt.

Sirius and Remus watched in slack-jawed awe as Harry's roommate not only easily took an impact that would have knocked an alpha giant down, but then proceeded to throw around the large vehicles like they weighed nothing. Wave after wave of vans and men with a variety of weapons crashed down upon the polite young man, and yet he stood strong, weathering and beating back the torrent of violence.

"You're going in there," Sirius croaked when multiple rocket blasts finally downed Colossus long enough for the Logan to end the simulation. Rather than answer, Harry smiled confidently and left the observation deck to warm up.

As soon as he was out of view of Remus and Sirius, the smile slid from his face. He'd seen his roommate in the Danger Room before when Dr. McCoy was running it and it was much easier then. He'd heard that Logan would push you to your limits during training, but he'd yet to see it until now. Steeling himself for battle, Harry stepped into the plain metal hued room and waited.

An empty street appeared around him; slightly damaged buildings lined one side while the other was a mix of twisted ironwork and rubble. The burnt out husks of destroyed vehicles were strewn everywhere; the road, the rubble, even one sticking half way out of a third story window.

An enormous amount of concentrated energy began approaching, shaking the ground as it did so. Up in the observation deck where Colossus had joined Sirius and Remus the teen exhaled loudly as a sentinel rounded one of the damaged buildings.

Harry looked up at the monstrous machine towering over him, ignoring the mechanical voice demanding his surrender and focusing on the core of the mechanical being. It was huge, far bigger than anything he'd previously been able to strip away from an opponent or even a dozen opponents.

The large robot raised its hand, palm forward and he could feel the build up of energy emanating from it. Grasping the power, Harry pulled it away from the sentinel. A huge bolt of electricity shot from the machine into him. He immediately realized the problem with the strategy as despite the momentary drain, the energy quickly began to build in the palm of his enemy.

"Bugger," Harry yelled, diving away from where he stood as a blast of energy flew towards him. Rolling to his feet, he concentrated the energy he'd absorbed from the machine and pressing it tightly into a ball he hurled it at the slowly turning robot.

The sentinel reacted to the attack, attempting to move out of the path of Harry's projectile. Unable to avoid the impact, the automaton took the hit high on its metallic shoulder. A loud hiss issued forth from the impact and the acrid smell of burnt electronics and ozone filled the air.

Not knowing how much of an effect his attack had Harry didn't wait to find out, instead he launched two bolts of electricity towards the legs of the mechanical nightmare causing it to topple to the ground.

Relieved that his attacks had been effective, he nearly missed the machine push itself upright with its good arm. An energy blast issued forth from the remaining palm cannon of the sentinel forcing Harry to dive for cover once again. Though successful in dodging the attack, chunks of exploding asphalt raked his legs and back as they passed over him.

Feeling rather than seeing the follow up beam of energy, Harry narrowly rolled away only for shrapnel from the ensuing explosion to tear through his flesh.

Reaching out and grasping the fluctuating energy core of the attacking machine, Harry put everything in him into heaving the energy from the beast. Energy crackled over his skin as he absorbed the liberated electricity. Climbing to his feet, he fixed his mind on the source of energy in the chest of the sentinel. Despite his efforts buying him time, the energy source seemed inexhaustible; no matter how much of the power he absorbed, it replenished itself within seconds.

Redoubling his efforts to keep the beast immobile, Harry approached the downed robot. Circling behind it, he closed to within feet of its power source. With a thought, a beam of energy formed and shot through the mechanical monster, slicing a cavernous hole through the steel frame and piercing the power core.

Instead of dying out like he'd planned, however, Harry felt the power source begin to surge; but the rapidly building energy had nowhere to go. Turning away from the impending detonation, he began to run. The chaotic energy released in the explosion washed over him, the shockwave throwing him roughly to ground, knocking the wind from his lungs.

Slowly climbing to his feet, Harry allowed a small smile to cross his face. Logan had thrown a challenge at him that effectively neutralized his most effective attack and he'd triumphed. The smile faded very quickly, however, when he felt three more sentinels approaching each from a different direction; he was surrounded. Summing up his feelings on the idea, Harry muttered, "Bugger!"

Drawing himself to his full height, Harry began pooling energy in his hands; pushing more into it than he had previously, he felt the tingle of electricity creeping up his arms. A force beam slammed into a chunk of rubble to his left. Taking that as an invitation, Harry charged towards the closest sentinel.

Up in the control room, Logan looked on at his grandson with pride. He'd taken down a sentinel on his first try. As he watched the teen begin running at the closest of the now three killing machines sent after him, he marveled at the speed the teen exhibited as he zigzagged through the rubble avoiding the rapid fire of the level 3 construct.

Approaching the towering being, Harry didn't slow down as he unleashed the pooled energy, having waited until the last moment to prevent the iron giant time to dodge. The huge bolt of lightning struck the sentinel in the chest, directly over its power core. Circling its feet, Harry manifested a tight beam of electricity, slicing through the monsters right leg.

Even as the defeated sentinel teetered and fell, remaining upright only due to the half-destroyed building it came to rest against, the others had approached. Feeling a beam of energy cutting through the air towards him, Harry's momentum left him powerless to avoid running directly into it. The crushing blow of the beam tossing him through the air paled in comparison to that of the impact he felt as he crashed through the exterior of a building.

Disoriented and in pain, Harry barely heard the flat tones Logan speaking over the intercom, "Not bad Fusion; two of four sentinels."

"I'm not done yet," Harry slurred, determinedly forcing himself to stand. "I can still fight," he continued in a more steady voice, his body already beginning to heal his myriad of injuries.

"Alright kid," Logan agreed from the control booth, "but one more hit and you're done."

"Mutant target: Fusion, exit the building and surrender or you will be terminated," the mechanical voice of one of the sentinels echoed through the room he now found himself in. Despite still being wobbly on his feet, Harry slowly took in his surroundings. He was a lobby of some kind. To one side of the building, through the destruction he could see the parts of the resting form of the sentinel he'd already defeated, leaning listlessly against the building. On the opposite side, he could see the feet of two more machines intent on his destruction and the only exit.

Staggering to get a better look and a possible shot at one or both of the robots that had him cornered, he had to jump backwards as the large hand of the one of the constructs punched through the building and attempted to grab him. The sound of groaning metal filled the air and the entire structure seemed to shift.

A crazy idea filled his mind and Harry unleashed a torrent of lightning into the palm trying to capture or crush him. Just as it had in his previous enemies, the overload of electricity shorted out the mechanics of the hand and arm of the sentinel. No longer able to contort its arm to remove it from the building without causing further destruction, the robot simply tore itself free, taking a full wall with it.

Again, the sound of groaning metal and crumbling concrete filled the air, slowly building from a low rumble to the thunderous sound of a toppling building. It was only then that Harry realized how little he'd actually thought out what he was doing; he was standing on the ground floor of a building that was falling down around him and the only exit he saw was blocked by what would soon be crushed sentinel.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Setbacks

Unable to escape the building collapsing around him, Harry took pleasure in watching as the falling rubble from the upper floors crashed down upon the sentinels, crushing them. Only when both of the large robots were buried under twisted steel and concrete did he realize that he was completely unaffected by the event. The room reverted to the empty dull grey that he'd entered and after regaining his bearings, Harry stumbled to the exit where Jean ordered him to the medical lab.

Once they arrived, Jean ordered Harry onto one of the medical beds and began looking over him, cataloging his injuries. She was almost frustrated that by the time she finished, most of them had already healed; leaving him with what she suspected was a broken collarbone and a few cracked ribs.

"Can you reign in your power while I x-ray you," she asked, the only spoken communication between them since arriving as her relationship with the boy was still strained.

"I can try," Harry answered and concentrated on doing so as she prepared the machine. Her work was interrupted by the arrival of Logan escorting an unfamiliar man and a large black dog into the lab.

"No animals in the medical lab Logan," Jean screeched as the enormous dog bounded across the room to Harry only to turn into a man.

Sirius pulled him into a tight hug, "what the hell were you thinking out there Harry!" the man demanded.

"Umm, Sirius," Harry replied with a smile.

"Don't 'umm Sirius' me! Did James drop you off a broom or something?" Sirius ranted.

"Sirius," Harry tried again to get the man's attention.

"This is Snape's fault somehow, probably invented a foolhardy draught and tested it on you," the Animagus continued, "I'll bloody tear his head off."

"Excuse me, Mr. Black," Jean successfully interrupted, "but there are two things I'd like to make you aware of."

"What's that?" Sirius replied.

"First, you're squeezing your godson who recently broke a couple of ribs and I suspect his collar bone," this information caused the man to drop Harry and jump away as if burned, "and second, you were touching his skin without being electrocuted."

Walking across the room, Logan grabbed his grandsons hand in his own and shook it, "only a slight tingle, like static electricity. What'd you do different?"

"Oh, well, Dr. Grey asked me to try to reign in my power so she could run some medical tests," Harry answered.

"Can you maintain this indefinitely," Jean asked, "or does it require effort?"

"I have to think about it, or be aware of it, I think," Harry replied, "but it doesn't take any effort to stay this way."

"If it's alright with you, I'd like to sedate you to test if you can maintain control while you are unconscious," Dr. Grey pushed.

"If it's all the same, rather than drugs, can Sirius or Remus just cast a sleeping spell or stun me instead?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure how magic might interact," Jean began.

"A stunning spell renders the victim unconsciousness, a sleeping spell would simply put him in a light natural slumber provided he doesn't fight it," Remus offered.

"Would it be alright to try both," Jean asked thoughtfully.

Harry nodded and lay down, commenting, "I think this is the first time I've willingly consented to being stunned."

"You ready?" Sirius asked, wand out and smirk firmly set on his face, not waiting for an answer, a red beam of magic flew towards Harry, splashing against his skin. For several seconds, Harry's vision grayed and his senses dulled before the feeling faded.

"Can I take it that's not supposed to happen," Jean asked, as all three wizards seemed stunned, figuratively, with the results.

"I should say so," Remus answered, "that spell should have put him out in an instant. Had it worked properly, he wouldn't have woken on his own for hours."

"How're you feeling Harry," Logan questioned his grandson.

"Fine, actually," the teen replied, "it took a few seconds to absorb the energy, but once I had, the effects of the spell are completely gone."

"Did you mean to do that," Sirius pressed.

"No," Harry replied, "I mean, not intentionally. I'm concentrating on dulling my power output, and that's kind of like absorbing the energy from my exterior deeper inside of me."

"Your mutation appears to allow you to negate magic," Jean stated, "now that you know that, do you think you could control the ability to any degree?"

Harry nodded, "I'm sure I can, now that I know what it feels like."

"Before we do that, is there a measurable scale of power with magic so that we can determine the limits of this phenomenon," Jean asked after turning and facing the Marauders.

Sirius shrugged and looked to Remus who answered, "There's not a scale as such, as the same spell cast by two different wizards will have varying degrees of power behind them. A stunner cast by Dumbledore, for instance, would have significantly more power than one I cast; further, it is dependant upon the focus and desire powering the spell. If I were to really focus and push my will into my spell, it would be more powerful than one I cast more casually."

Remus paused, looking lost in thought before offering a solution, "I believe that if we should use Sirius as our control caster; he is an above average powered wizard, a bit more powerful than I am. He can start by casting first year spells on Harry and gradually build up to more complex and powerful ones."

"Yippee, I get to be a test dummy," Harry said sarcastically, preparing for the test regardless.

"Before we begin, might I suggest we distance ourselves from any electronics you don't wish to destroy, as magic has a tendency to do so," Remus suggested.

"I'd like to treat Harry for his injuries before begin that test," Jean stated, "and there is still the matter of testing if his control extends to his subconscious mind."

"Actually, I'm feeling much better," the young wizard offered heading for the door.

"Not so fast, Mr. Potter," Jean called, "let me at least give you another examination." She'd fought this same losing battle with Logan enough times that she didn't hold out hope that the teen would listen any better than his grandfather would. She was privately grateful, however, that his behavior towards her seemed to be thawing somewhat.

"We'll come up with a scale of spells while you do that," Sirius offered. He hated hospital wings as much as his godson and he wasn't above throwing the teen under the bus if it meant he could escape. Grabbing Remus, he turned to Logan and requested the mutant lead the way to where they could test. Logan shrugged and complied, leading the elder wizards from the room.

"For what it's worth," Jean began as she commenced with her examination, "I'm sorry about before; it was arrogant of me to think my judgment superior to yours in regards to your past."

"Don't let it happen again," Harry answered in reply, "and you're forgiven," he added. The rest of her short examination passed in a more comfortable silence before she pronounced him well. He still had several minor injuries, but with the rate at which he healed, she wasn't concerned especially as she would be involved with his upcoming magical resistance testing and could check him over again when they were completed.

-~-~-~-~-~

Meeting up with the group where Logan held combat classes, Harry mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of magic he expected. "Alright, how are we doing this?" he asked.

"We're going to start with low powered jinxes and work up to some moderate hexes, but we'll try to avoid anything painful or difficult to reverse," Remus explained acting as the spokesman. "While we were coming up with a list of spells, it occurred to us that counter curses may not be any more effective on you than any other magic."

The marauder in Sirius couldn't abide longwinded explanations, so in an effort to kick-start the action, he hit Harry in the back with a mild stinging hex. When Harry didn't react at all, he sent another, more powerful stinger. This time, his godson reached back and scratched where the spell had struck, but otherwise continued listening to Remus as they went over the list of spells. A third hex, the most powerful one, flew from his wand, only this time, Harry turned and slapped the spell out of the air.

"Ok, chalk up another new ability for Fusion," Wolverine commented having observed the byplay.

"That was amazing Harry," Remus gushed, "How'd you do that?"

"Sirius hit me with whatever spell that was a couple of times; once I had a handle on the feel of the energy it was easy to manipulate it the same way I can electricity," Harry replied.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Given the evolving nature of Harry's abilities, they modified the test to where each spell was cast at Harry multiple times to see if he could first absorb the energy and then control it. Despite the vast array of jinxes Sirius knew, there were none that Harry couldn't deal with. He was able to absorb and eventually manipulate them all in some way. The same was true of all of the low powered hexes they tested. Moving on to moderately powered hexes, Harry was able to absorb them, though initially more slowly, once he learned the feel of the energy, it was no different for him; though he found himself unable to alter or control the spells in flight.

Powerful hexes and schoolyard curses proved more challenging for him to absorb; the effects of which would occasionally manifest for several seconds before he completely absorbed the energies powering them.

"I think we're going to have to try some more powerful curses, Harry," Remus explained once they'd exhausted all of the magic they could use on him without injuring him. "With jinxes and hexes the effects are all temporary; the same is true of the curses we've used. The next class of spells I'd like to try doesn't work that way. Instead, they cause an instant physical effect and are finished. Things like bludgeoning curses and bone breakers."

Harry sighed and mentally consigned himself to more pain, "you people, and pushing my limits," he complained. "I want you to miss me the first couple of times you cast it, so I can adjust to the feel of the magic before I have to experience it."

"Alright Harry," Sirius agreed as he loosed a bludgeoning curse into the ground near his godson's feet.

"Another," the teen requested, "and can you hit something further away?"

Sirius picked a tree twenty yards away and sent another bludgeoner at it. "Better?" He asked once it had struck the trunk of the maple. Harry nodded, prompting the marauder to cast a third curse.

"Alright," Harry called taking a position about 15 yards from Sirius and bracing himself, "hit me."

Sirius nodded, his face set with a grim expression. Flicking his wand at Harry, the pale orange light of the bludgeoning curse erupted from the tip, streaked through the air, and slammed into his godson's torso.

Harry folded nearly in half from the impact and felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He felt the energy of the spell crackling through the air and he'd siphoned as much of it away he could before it struck him; but it wasn't enough. Thankful for his enhanced healing, he felt the ache in his stomach quickly ebbing and stood up to take a deep breath.

"You alright kid?" Logan called, walking towards him.

"Yeah, but let's not try that again," Harry answered.

"You did great Harry; you're all but immune to more than half of the common dueling spells," Remus offered, slapping him on the back. "And since you can feel all the others coming, you should be able to shield or move out of the way."

"I suppose," Harry replied.

"Buck up, kiddo," Sirius stated, "it'll be almost impossible to prank you now," Harry cracked a smile at that.

"I think we're done," Remus called out, "I don't think it'll be safe or healthy to try any higher level magic on Harry. We have a good baseline."

"I'm wondering if we can create a scale to measure the power of magic," Jean questioned as she fell into step next to the werewolf while the entire group headed back into the mansion.

As they walked, Harry absently conjured some electricity; idly amusing himself by making it dance between his palms.

"When did you figured out how to do that," Jean asked, breaking off her conversation with Remus upon seeing the dancing electricity.

"The other day," he answered, "after…" he trailed off.

"Ah," Jean said, understanding he was talking about her mental intrusion, "I hadn't seen you do that before."

"It's pretty easy, actually," Harry stated, "like I told Logan, now that I'm sort of used to it; it's pretty easy to control the energy."

"Could you change it," Sirius asked, receiving a blank stare from Harry in return. "Could you alter the energy in your palms to feel like magic; like a spell?"

"Padfoot, that's brilliant," Remus stated then frowned, "why did you think of it?"

"What," the dog Animagus complained; "I can't have good ideas?"

"I'm not sure," Harry interrupted the bantering Marauders, "I've got a good idea how the energy feels." Taking several moments to center and calm his energy, Harry conjured a small ball of electricity in the palm of his hand. Concentrating on the feeling of the energy, he focused on changing how it felt. Slowly, the glowing ball in his hands began changing color, yellow streaks running through the whitish blue hue. Try as he might, though, he couldn't change the energy. Throwing the ball into the air, it quickly fizzled out.

"That's a good try," Sirius stated, "I thought you had it."

"It's hard to describe," Harry informed the group, "I could feel the energy and it was like I was infusing it with the feeling of the itching spell, but there was a barrier there that wouldn't let it change completely. I'm fairly sure that if that'd hit somebody; the bolt would have been a little bit itchy."

"Your powers are evolving quickly, Harry," Jean offered, "That you can affect magical energy at all is amazing in and of itself."

Testing officially completed for the day, Jean and Remus restarted their conversation about measuring magic more accurately as the group continued the walk back to the school.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

After entering the school, Wolverine went one way and Remus followed Jean in a different direction. Sirius, after a moment of deliberation, followed along as well, leaving Harry to enter the TV room on his own.

"They deserved it!" Pyro yelled as Harry entered the room.

Looking over his shoulder then back at the obviously enraged mutant, the wizard replied the only way he could think to, "What?"

Glaring at Harry, the fiery mutant growled, "stay out of this Fusion, you haven't been a mutant long enough to get what it's like!"

Still unsure of what he was being yelled at for, he turned to Sunspot, Pixie, and Kitty. The latter explaining, "since Danger room was cancelled today some of us talked the Professor into letting us go out for the day," the girl paused to glare at Pyro, "we were at the mall and he decided it was a good idea to call a group wearing Friends of Humanity badges a bunch of flatscans."

"They had it coming," Pyro defended himself; "they were laughing about how they'd hospitalized one of their friends who turned out to be a mutant."

"And that makes it right to pick a fight with them and set them on fire," Kitty challenged him, "good job picking on a bunch of unarmed bigots. Now they'll come of as heroes and mutants will look like villains looking to pick fights."

"They started it; I just finished it," the boy shouted, "it's not my fault that they bit off more than they could chew!" Turning to Harry again, he implored, "back me up on this Fusion; that kid they hospitalized could have been you, or me, or Pixie or some normal kid. Somebody's got to stand up for them!"

Harry took a few moments to think up his response; "so these guys were talking about hospitalizing some kid and you wanted revenge?"

Pyro nodded, "yeah, they need to know not to mess with mutants!"

"Did you want revenge for that kid, or for all mutants?" Harry questioned calmly.

"Does it matter?" Pyro shot back.

Ignoring the teen's reply, Harry couldn't help but draw comparisons between Pyro's actions and those of the Death Eaters. While perhaps an unfair evaluation, these actions added in with the boy's generally militant attitude painted an all too familiar picture. "Did it feel good hurting them? Were they scared when you showed them that you had more power than they did? Did you draw it out so you could enjoy it?"

"What," Pryo questioned, "I thought you were on my side."

"You're just like them and you don't even realize it," Harry disagreed, his voice low and angry, "looking at them like they're below you; like you're entitled to do whatever you want to them. I get it; they're scum! What you did though, it was exactly what would be done to you and using the same reasons to justify it."

"Shut up, you can't understand! You're practically one of them!" Pyro shouted angrily.

"I can't understand bigotry," Harry laughed hollowly; "I don't know anything about growing up thinking my name was Boy or Freak until I was 5. I don't know what it's like for my parents to be murdered and my face disfigured because of my blood!" Harry hissed, pulling his bangs back and exposing his lightning bold scar.

"I've experienced bigotry my entire life; always looking over my shoulder for somebody trying to kill me because of what I am," the wizard continued. "And you use the tools of oppression; fear, terror, humiliation, and violence like you're entitled to them. Just because somebody did it to you doesn't make what you did right; it just makes you a coward."

Disgusted by the conversation and no longer desiring to spend any time in the TV room, Harry turned to leave when he felt a fireball flying towards his back. Too close to its source to dodge, all he could do was brace himself before the searing heat struck him. Dropping to his knees, Harry screamed as his flesh melted under the onslaught. He vaguely heard Pixie's scream as he further crumpled to the ground.

A black film dimmed his vision, the rushing of blood thundered in his ears, the scent of his burnt flesh filled his nostrils, his entire body shook with spasms of pain, and through it all, he was able to feel another fireball building. Pushing himself back to his knees, he blearily looked at his attacker who was standing off with Sunspot and Shadowcat, a fireball in both hands as he backed away from them. "My turn," he spat through clenched teeth. With that, Harry firmly took hold of the fire mutant's bio-energy and tore it from his body. The thump of Pyro's body hitting the floor was the last thing Harry heard before his body finally went into shock and he lost consciousness.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"…can't stabilize…resistant to…infected tissue..."

"…London and…she'll know…dragons and…"

"Hurry Remus…not going…whatever you…Snape know…"

"…kill that…he did…"

"…transferred to…flat lining…not able…"

The snippets of conversation he was hearing faded away and there was only silence and darkness.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"Professor Dumbledore?" Remus yelled after arriving in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld place.

"Remus," Mrs. Weasley admonished running into the room, "what ever is the matter?"

"Is Dumbledore here," the werewolf questioned frantically, ignoring her inquiry.

"No, I thought he was with you," the plump woman asked, "what's going on?" she demanded.

"Harry's in trouble," Remus snapped.

"What is the matter with Mr. Potter," Dumbledore posed, having just silently Apparated into the room.

"He was attacked by one of his peers; we need Madam Pomfrey to," Remus trailed off after glancing at Mrs. Weasley.

"What is the nature of his injuries?" the aged wizard asked.

"Severe burns over most of his body," Moony quickly answered. Without further discussion, Dumbledore grabbed a small bag of Floo powder from the mantle, tossed it into the fire, and stuck his head into the green flames.

With the situation under control for the moment, Mrs. Weasley resumed her questioning, "When did you find Harry? Why didn't you bring him with you? What kind of a school…"

"We don't have time for this Molly," Remus barked, "when we get back; I'll fill everybody in, but for now, drop it." Mrs. Weasley scowled at the man, but dropped the line of questioning. "Please don't tell anyone that Harry has been found," the Marauder asked more gently. Only a moment later Remus and the newly arrived Poppy disappeared in a swirl of wind and light.

"Albus," Mrs. Weasley called questioningly.

"All will be explained soon, Molly; just as soon as Remus and Poppy return." Albus offered to soothe the matronly woman.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"Where are we, Mr. Lupin," Poppy Pomfrey questioned upon their arrival, noticing that instead of late evening it was midday.

"We're in the North American Magical Collective," Remus supplied in clipped tones, "specifically, somewhere in the New England region." He led the woman into the large manner house where they were greeted by Charles and Logan and led to the elevator to the lower levels.

"The statute of secrecy," Poppy began.

"Doesn't apply; they're aware," Remus preempted. "This is Logan, Harry's maternal grandfather, and Charles Xavier, the headmaster of this school," Remus introduced as they waited for the lift to arrive at their destination.

"I suspect that I'll have quite a number of questions once Mr. Potter has been tended to," Madam Pomfrey stated, "can you please tell me what happened?"

"Do you know what a mutant is?" Remus started.

"Of course," the healer stated, "it was not so long ago that it was difficult to differentiate between magic and mutation. The Ministry wanted any magical mutants documented and so I was put through a course at St. Mungo's over the summer about identifying mutants and their mutations."

"Good, this is easier to explain then," Remus said relieved. "Harry and another student here got into an argument, when Harry turned his back to leave, the other student, who has an affinity for fire burned him severely. He looks like a dragon got to him."

"May I assume, since Mr. Potter is here, and none of you are surprised by the talk of either magic or mutation that he is both magical and a mutant," Poppy questioned.

"Indeed," Charles replied, taking a liking to the woman, "his mutation has to do with power absorption and manipulation; primarily electricity and bio-energy, but earlier today he showed an affinity towards absorbing and negating magic."

"Active or passive magics," the woman posed.

"We've only tested active magic; specifically jinxes, hexes and curses," Remus began.

"Of course," the woman sniffed derisively, "why bother with anything practical."

Ignoring this, Remus continued, "So far as we're aware, active magics are the main concern, however, he has some resistance to Muggle drugs."

"Is there anything else I should know before treating him," the woman asked as she was finally led into what she recognized as a Muggle medical room.

"He has an accelerated healing factor, and it is dangerous to touch his bare skin as it is electrified; I'm Dr. Jean Grey," the woman stated in greeting.

"Poppy Pomfrey," the witch replied and the pair of women set to work on the red and black lump of charred flesh that was Harry Potter.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"How is he," Sirius demanded as soon as Jean and Poppy exited the medical bay.

"He is responding abnormally well to the treatment," Poppy answered waving to Jean to go about her business. "It appears the healing portion of his mutation is fed by both active and passive energy. With the Dragon Burn Salve and Dr. Grey hooking him up to a source of electricity, I estimate he will be fully recovered within a few hours."

Sirius released an explosive, relieved breath, "Thank you Madam Pomfrey," he offered.

"The other young man was another story," the healer continued, "he was comatose after Dr. Grey was able to restore his heartbeat. As he is not magical, potions were not an option for treatment, but I was able to stabilize him with a number of…"

"I don't care about the wanker who attacked Harry from behind," Sirius growled, "you could have let him die and I wouldn't be sorry for him; he got what he deserved."

"Do you think Harry would see it that way?" Poppy countered sternly, "I dare say I know him better than you, having spent a considerable amount of time with him, and I don't believe he would want the boy's death on his hands if it could be avoided." Her piece said the witch directed Sirius that Harry wasn't to have visitors to avoid infections. Finished with her conversation, she turned to find Remus and return to Hogwarts, firm in her belief that both patients were safe with Dr. Grey.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place was crowded with the core members of the Order of the Phoenix. Gathered in one corner around their mentor and sponsor Mad Eye Moody was the Auror contingent of the clandestine group, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and Hestia Jones. While Molly Weasley bustled about making sure everyone was fed and watered, Bill and Arthur Weasley sat at the table across from Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape.

At the head of the table sat their leader, Albus Dumbledore, who stood and called the meeting to order. "Let me begin without preamble by stating that we have located Harry Potter," the man stated, "or rather, he found us." Waiting out the inevitable outbursts, the now officially former Headmaster continued, "However, when trying to contact us, he inadvertently tipped the Ministry and very likely Voldemort to his whereabouts."

"Where is he," Mad Eye asked gruffly.

"He is in the New England region of the North American Magical Collective," Dumbledore answered.

"How did he manage to leave the country," Kingsley questioned, "Muggle and magical means, one way or another, would have left a trail."

"The information in the original forensics report was accurate," Albus stated, "he was taken against his will by a group of Muggles."

"For what purpose?" Hestia Jones queried; "why would Muggles on the other side of the planet take Potter?"

Before Dumbledore could answer, Remus spoke, "for the time being, that information is not something that we will be discussing," he shot a none too subtle look at Snape. The greasy Potions Master wasn't the only reason however; as the details would inevitably lead to Harry's outing as a mutant. After what he'd learned from Poppy had about the Ministry's response to magical mutants; in addition to the Ministers current stance on Harry, he wasn't keen to let that happen just yet.

"When will he be returning to Hogwarts," McGonagall questioned.

"With Delores in place as High Inquisitor and the Ministry's persecution, he will not be returning in the foreseeable future," Dumbledore answered.

Snape snorted in derision, "I'm sure your decision on the matter went over well with the spoiled brat." Looking at Remus, he smirked and continued, "Did he throw a tantrum when he was not afforded special treatment? He was confused when the werewolf simply smiled placidly back at him.

"In fact, it was Mr. Potter who pointed out to me that it would not be in his best interests to return at this time," Dumbledore admitted, "from the reports I have been given, he is doing well where he is."

"Is he okay," Molly finally broke down and asked, "was Madam Pomfrey able to heal him?" This, of course, caused a cacophony of commentary to erupt in the room.

"He is healing splendidly," Dumbledore answered; then turning his attention to the group at large, he explained, "Harry had a run in with a peer that ended in a duel of sorts and he was gravely injured. The fast actions on the part of Remus and Sirius and the excellent work of Poppy have him on the mend."

"What happened to the kid who attacked Harry?" Tonks asked in curiosity. She'd wanted to meet the Boy-Who-Lived for a long while, having graduated the year before he started Hogwarts. With rumors, she'd heard about him growing up and the stories Remus and Sirius told about him, she was somewhat protective of the stranger.

"He'll live," Remus answered, "He had to be resuscitated multiple times, however."

"Aren't there underage magic rules on the other side of the pond?" Hestia questioned.

"They do not apply to this situation," Dumbledore answered cryptically.

"Was there any legitimate reason for me to be here Headmaster," Snape sniped, "if all we are meeting for is to discuss Potter, I have better things to do."

"There is more, Severus," Dumbledore placated, "the North American Magical Collective is run by an oath-bound government; a part of their oath is to see that justice is done. As they are aware of Harry's persecution by the British Ministry and are conversely aware that he cannot be guilty of what he is charged as he had in their territory for weeks before he was accused; they have raised the issue with the ICW."

"What will happen, Albus," McGonagall asked.

"I have had only scant contact with their government since they became aware of the situation," Dumbledore answered, "I get the impression that they will seek Harry's support in their actions. Their true aim is unknown and the potential results of their machinations are unpredictable."

"What do you think they want," Moody questioned, "there is no chance you're as unaware of their goals as you are letting on."

"My theory is that they will push the issue in the ICW to pressure the British Ministry into once again becoming an oath-bound nation," Dumbledore answered, "it's an idealistic goal, but if that is their aim, I fear it will tear our nation apart."

"But being oath-bound wouldn't be so bad," Tonks objected, "Us Aurors already are, to an extent."

"Remember, Nymphadora, that a fair number of the prominent wizards in our society either lived through or were directly impacted by the Ministry massacre of 1878, this is particularly true of members of the Ministry and Wizengamot," Dumbledore countered, "and they will fight against such a measure with everything they have. The last thing the Ministry needs right now is to have to fight on two fronts."

"Perhaps what we really need is a new ministry given how corrupt our current government is," Remus stated firmly. "I'm already considering leaving the country…"

"Good riddance, werewolf," Snape interrupted.

"Fuck you Snivellus," Remus retorted with a growl, surprising everyone, as he was normally a very placid and reserved man.

Before the greasy man could respond, Dumbledore stepped in, "must you constantly bring things to this level, Severus," the former headmaster admonished, "I'm beginning to lose hope that you will one day grow out of such childish remarks." Exhausted after two international Portkey trips and numerous meetings with North American officials, he was not in a mind to humor his young friend. "Your presence at Order meetings is often detrimental to morale; I believe it will behoove us all if you report to me privately from now on."

A slight flush of anger at being publicly reprimanded colored his cheeks and through gritted teeth the Potions Master responded, "if you think that is best, Headmaster." Sending a scathing glare at everyone in the room, he stood and swept from the room.

He was not so quick to leave as to miss hearing Alastor Moody bark, "about time, Albus." He was only thankful that neither the mongrel Black nor Potter had attended.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

At the same time on the opposite side of the Atlantic Ocean, Charles Xavier was sitting down with the staff of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, better known as the X-men to decide the fates of Fusion and Pyro once the boy's had time to heal.

"While it has not happened often in the history of this institution, this is not the first time that tempers have run over and powers have wreaked destruction heedless of consequence," Xavier began gravely, "each case, however, has been handled differently, so there is no set precedent on what is to be done. Do you all know the details of the incident between Misters Allerdyce and Potter?"

"Storm briefed us on what she witnessed and we've all heard Ms. Pride's account," Cyclops answered for the group.

"Well then, Scott, what do you think should be done?" Xavier questioned.

"I think it's a difficult situation what with Fusion having only been here a few weeks while Pyro has been here for years," Cyclops started. "Clearly Pyro instigated the confrontation and lashed out violently, however, some of the students may feel he was provoked by Fusion's outburst."

"Tenure should not mean that he's allowed to get away with attacking another student, particularly after his actions against the humans earlier today," Storm argued. "He is unstable and has proven himself a danger to any student who would disagree with him. His continued presence here undermines the very spirit in which the school was founded."

"I feel I must present the most obvious of possible solutions, if only to play Devils Advocate," Beast interjected, "removing both of the young men from the school would serve as both a start lesson for the remaining students and remove any underlying tensions if one or both of them were to remain."

"Harry was defending himself," Logan growled, not liking the direction of the conversation, "punishing him just tells the kiddies it's not alright to fight back. If he leaves, I'm goin' with him; and I suspect a number of the remaining students will follow me."

"There is no call for threats of mutiny," Scott countered, "whatever your relationship to Mr. Potter, you need to be objective."

"If it'd been Jeanie he'd attacked, or Colossus or Rogue, or anyone who'd been here for more than a few weeks, there wouldn't be a discussion," Wolverine shouted, "Pyro's dangerous."

"Don't you often say that you're dangerous as well," Jean replied, "I can recall you saying that on multiple occasions, in fact."

"The question is, are either of these young men irredeemable," Xavier stated, taking control of the meeting. "There can be no doubt that both of them will face repercussions for their actions, but I do see Logan's point, and might I add, had Mr. Potter not had an enhanced healing factor and outside assistance, he would likely be dead."

"So would Pyro," Scott responded heatedly, "his first reaction upon being attacked was to use deadly force! You've all seen him in the Danger Room; if he were to lose control," he trailed off, feeling his point was made.

"He reacted to a mortal wound with deadly force," Storm said, "hardly something we can condemn him for. And as for losing control, should your glasses ever be removed, are you any less dangerous than he is?"

"Yes," Scott all but yelled, "I know how to control myself."

"And you learned how to under Professor Xavier's guidance," Storm interrupted, "would you deny Mr. Potter the chance for the same?"

"I never almost killed one of my peers," Scott argued.

"You were never attacked from behind by one of your peers," Ororo countered, "can you honestly say that as a 15 year old, had I hit you with a bolt of lightning from behind, that as you laid, dying, you would not have found a way to blast me in retaliation? I find that highly unlikely."

"I do believe we are getting off track here," Beast offered, "it is clear that you disagree about Mr. Potter's disposition; what of Pyro's?"

Silence reigned for several minutes and Scott visibly calmed himself; he couldn't rationally explain his reaction to the incident. Much as he didn't like it Logan was right; logically, if it had been anybody else, his reaction would be clear-cut, expulsion for the aggressor. Taking a steadying breath, he said, "Pyro's actions cannot be condoned in any way. While I do not believe him irredeemable, his actions today, as well as his general attitude towards humans make his continued presence detrimental to the school."

Forcing himself to voice his underlying concern, Cyclops continued, "At the same time, expelling him will inevitably lead him to joining Magneto's Brotherhood. Are we prepared for the possibility that we one day may find ourselves facing him as an enemy?"

"It doesn't have to be that bad," Jean disagreed, "there are other schools; safe houses; even normal schools where he could blend in if we don't abandon him."

"While I am loath to condemn him at such a young age, I'm afraid that should we remove him from the Mansion, no matter what options we offer him, it will not be enough," Beast lamented. "I do not know that even were we to remove Mr. Potter and pretend that his actions never occurred, if it would be enough to prevent him from eventually following his ideals straight into Magneto's camp."

"While the decision falls to you, Professor, I believe it would be prudent to put it to a vote," Storm stated, "all in favor of Mr. Allerdyce's expulsion?" Beast, Logan, Cyclops, and her own hands were raised with varying degrees of reluctance.

"Professor," Jean cried the lone dissenting vote.

"I'm afraid I agree," Charles stated, "I shall offer him the alternative's you suggested," the man soothed his distraught protégé. "I'm relieved that there was no call for involving the authorities in this matter."

"That might well become something we come to regret," Beast offered ominously. Though no one replied to the statement, they all feared that Hank was correct.

"As to Mr. Potter, I'm inclined to wait to determine his fate until I am able to speak with him about the incident," Xavier stated.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"My Lord, I have news," Severus said as he knelt before Voldemort.

"Proceed," The Dark Lord hissed.

Snape rose to his feet, "I have just come from a meeting of the Order, My Lord, and though Dumbledore believes you already have this information, I would be remiss in my duties to you not to inform you that Potter has been found."

"Lucius has informed me," Voldemort agreed, "do you bring further news; his location perhaps?"

"The boy is in the New England region of the North American Magical Collective, My Lord, he was also recently injured and will be weak for some time to come," Snape answered.

"That is more information than was reported to Lucius," The Dark Lord offered in praise, "Do you bring news of when he will be returning to Britain?"

"It is yet undecided, My Lord," Snape answered, "with the charges levied at him and the Ministry interference at Hogwarts, Dumbledore is hesitant to remove him from whatever safe haven in which he currently resides." The Potions Master paused to allow his master time to formulate a response; when none came, he pressed onwards, "Albus informed me that the North American Ministry has evidence that Potter can not have performed any crime he is accused of this summer and are pressing the issue with the International. Their actions only partly play into his hands; however, as he believes their end goal is to force the Ministry to become oath-bound once more."

"You have given me much to consider, Severus," The Dark Lord replied, the serpentine wizard's voice hardened as he asked, "Are you expected anywhere?"

There was only one acceptable answer and Snape knew what it was, "No My Lord, what is your bidding?"

"I believe a punishment for Potter is in order," Voldemort answered, "there is a group preparing now to attack the Granger girl's parents; I want you to lead them. Make it look like an accident."

The Potions Master knew a dismissal when he heard it and quickly walked through the halls of Malfoy Manor to where he knew the attack party would be gathered. He also knew that Voldemort sent him to lead an occasional mission like this as a measure of his loyalty and he would be watched carefully the entire time. He had no way to contact the Order to warn them; still, Snape thought, if he was obligated to participate, there was no reason not to enjoy it.

-~-~-~-~-~-


End file.
